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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193879">The Picture of Javic Thane</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteeninafez/pseuds/thirteeninafez'>thirteeninafez</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Evil Jack Harkness, Halloween, Hurt Torchwood Team, Jack is Not Nice in this and quite mean to the team, Literary References &amp; Allusions, M/M, References to Abuse, Torchwood Halloween Fest 2020, Violence, inspired by the picture of dorian gray, so do be warned and heed the tags!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteeninafez/pseuds/thirteeninafez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The painting was an old Victorian portrait, showing a man sitting in an almost throne-like chair, posture perfect and facial expression stoic. Deep colours swirled from brilliant brush strokes, perfectly capturing the image it was displaying. It took Ianto a second to realise that the figure in the maroon, nearly purple suit (and matching bow-tie) was in fact the same man that was currently holding the painting in the Hub.</p><p><i>“That’s</i> what came through the Rift?” Ianto asked incredulously, trying to ignore the smile that was tugging at the corner of his mouth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Torchwood Fan Fests: Halloween Fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is for the Torchwood Halloween Fest 2020, for the prompt Week One: Horror classics homage and Week Four: Scary places / cursed objects. It was loosely inspired by The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.</p><p>Do read the tags! This fic isn't a fluff-fest, and I've tagged it as references to abuse for a reason (in the later chapters). Heed my warning!</p><p>Chapters are (amost) all written and updates will be on Wednesday and Saturday!</p><p>Beta-ed by the amazing Nik, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds">princessoftheworlds</a> .  Also, shoutout to my partner in crime Lauren <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyborgtamaki/pseuds/Cyborgtamaki">Cyborgtamaki</a> for doing her usual wonderful plotting help and edits too! Thank you both for your help!! (and shoutout to my flatmate Phoebe for putting up with my drunk rambling about this fic, and my drunk plotting.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> 5th October, 3:41 AM </em>
</p><p> </p><p>An obnoxious, incessant beeping noise cut into the dreamless sleep Ianto Jones was experiencing. Somebody’s hands, warm and careful, moved themselves around him. The beeping immediately lessened as an arm moved out from underneath his head, the noise obviously coming from the hand. Ianto was torn between reaching out to grab the hand and pull it back so that he could nuzzle against it some more or allowing it to move away, causing the noise to stop grating on his ears.</p><p>The decision was made for him when the warm body he was happy lying against began to move. A series of different beeps later, legs began to detangle beneath the sheet on top of them. The noise stopped, and Ianto took that as his cue to latch closer onto the figure, who was now trying to wriggle his way out of the bed they shared. Ianto tightened his arms around a waist, pressed his nose into the crook of a warm neck and let his own eyes droop closed again.</p><p>A warm, quiet chuckle came from his new pillow, soft and close enough that the vibrations passed into Ianto’s own body. Ianto hummed in content sleepiness, half-asleep still.</p><p>“Ianto…” a deep, sleepy voice mumbled - <em> Jack’s </em>voice, his barely functioning brain realised.</p><p>“What?” Ianto grumbled, and tightened his grip around the leg that was trying to sneak away from him.</p><p>“Ianto,” Jack repeated, his voice so soft and fond that Ianto couldn’t understand why Jack was trying to leave the bed. “You need to let go of me.”</p><p>“Don’t <em> want </em>to let go of you,” he muttered petulantly. Jack chuckled again, and Ianto wondered if Jack could feel his grin against the top of his chest.</p><p>A pair of lips suddenly pressed against Ianto’s forehead, kissing him so gently that he didn’t realise Jack had pushed him off his shoulder until it was too late.</p><p>“Come back,” Ianto whined as Jack shuffled his legs out of the bed. Just as Jack sat up, Ianto reached out a hand and latched onto the back of his neck, pulling him back down with a surprising amount of strength. Ianto lifted his head up, opening his eyes properly this time to look directly into Jack’s bemused pair.</p><p>Jack’s hair was messy, strewn up in many different directions. Even in the low-light, Ianto could appreciate Jack’s beauty - naked, except for the sheet that still covered his lower half, face far too pretty and far too close to Ianto’s own for him to not be distracted by. With a hand still on the nape of Jack’s neck, Ianto leant upwards and pressed their lips together. </p><p>They kissed until Ianto felt content enough that he could have fallen asleep again, if it weren’t for Jack pulling away and out of the bed. Ianto mourned the loss, bunching still-warm sheets up in his arms to hold as a poor substitute. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Jack bent over to grab at some trousers, lazily smiling in response to Jack’s wink.</p><p>“Where’re you going?” Ianto asked sleepily, dropping his arm down the side of the bed as he sprawled out on it.</p><p>“Rift alert,” Jack explained, toeing on some shoes as he threw a shirt on, leaving the buttons undone for now. Ianto was oddly smug to notice that it was his own pink shirt and was wondering if Jack would let him undress him once more before leaving when the words Jack had said finally sunk in.</p><p>“Rift alert?” Ianto questioned, eyes opening properly as he made to sit up.</p><p>Jack shushed him, pushing him gently back against the pillow. “Nothing to worry about. It came through in the Hub and is non-living. Probably just Rift junk.”</p><p>Ianto frowned but was enjoying the way Jack’s fingers were running through his hair too much to put up a strong protest. “What if it’s not, though?” he murmured.</p><p>“Then I’ll move it to a containment box and come straight back down to find the <em> gorgeous </em>Welshman who’ll be keeping my bed warm,” Jack joked, laughing as Ianto grumbled in response. Reaching the hand that wasn’t tangled in Ianto’s hair downwards, Jack tickled fingertips across Ianto’s bare chest, smirking as he playfully twisted a nipple. </p><p>Ianto jerked a hand to try to swat Jack’s fingers away but found they had already been pulled back. He glared at Jack, who only grinned brightly in response and leant forwards to give him one last kiss on his forehead. Ianto melted back into the bed, watching Jack climb the rungs of the ladder that led out of his bunker.</p><p>Minutes passed, spent lightly dozing in between reality and dream, soft echoes of noises and stray thoughts flying through Ianto’s head too quickly for him to understand. One moment he was lost in a tangling cotton sheet, the next he was lost in a sea of cool-blue eyes and wide, brilliant grins. Ianto’s mouth curved upwards ever so slightly, the sound of laughter getting louder and louder and louder until…</p><p>He opened his eyes with a start. There <em> was </em>laughter, loud and booming, coming not from his dream, but from somewhere above him. With a groan, Ianto finally rolled over, deciding that after waking up twice he should probably give in and call it quits. Plus, his interest was now far too piqued by whatever it was Jack was chortling out laughter about to go back to bed.</p><p>Begrudgingly wearing Jack’s larger blue shirt, Ianto emerged from the bunker and out into Jack’s office. It took a moment for him to get used to the bright overhead lights, his eyes still squinting and blurring with tiredness. He walked forwards, heading for the main Hub area.</p><p>Standing right in front of Gwen’s desk, Jack had his arms folded across his chest, and his head thrown backwards in laughter. Ianto followed the sight of his exposed neck, down his body until he caught sight of the item in front of Jack. From this far away, Ianto couldn’t quite make out what Jack was focused on, so he took a few quiet steps further into the room.</p><p>Hearing him walk in, Jack swivelled round and turned his megawatt grin on Ianto. “Look,” he said proudly, reaching over to pick the large item up. He held it forwards, resting his chin on top of it as his arms grabbed at two of the other sides.</p><p>Ianto felt his eyebrows raising before he even had time to appreciate the finer details of the portrait Jack was holding up. </p><p>The painting was an old Victorian portrait, showing a man sitting in an almost throne-like chair, posture perfect and facial expression stoic. Deep colours swirled from brilliant brush strokes, perfectly capturing the image it was displaying. It took Ianto a second to realise that the figure in the maroon, nearly purple suit (and matching bow-tie) was in fact the same man that was currently holding the painting in the Hub.</p><p>“<em> That’s </em> what came through the Rift?” Ianto asked incredulously, trying to ignore the smile that was tugging at the corner of his mouth. (Jack <em> certainly </em>didn’t need the ego boost.)</p><p>“What do you think? Does it capture my beauty? Look as handsome as the real thing?” Jack teased, trying to pull a serious face that matched the pose in the painting. </p><p>“Hmm, I’m not sure,” Ianto mused, tapping his chin in thought. “It’s definitely done a good job of making you actually look handsome. Better jawline, neater hair, prettier eyes-”</p><p>“Hey!” Jack exclaimed, pouting. He looked at Ianto’s face, as if searching for a glimmer of humour that would let him know that Ianto was only joking. Ianto kept his face as calm as possible, finding immense enjoyment in the way Jack’s eyes flickered towards the front of the portrait to assess whether the claims were true. “Do you really mean-?”</p><p>“No, Jack. I just enjoy how easy it is to wind you up.” Ianto smirked.</p><p>Jack growled lightly. “Keep winding me up, and you’ll have to find a way to wind me down in a minute,” he said, with a leer.</p><p>“Is that a promise?” Ianto grinned, taking the way Jack’s tongue wet his lip in anticipation as his answer. “No, but really. This came through the Rift?”</p><p>Jack resigned his face to a slightly more serious expression. “Yeah. Bit weird, but we’ve certainly had weirder.”</p><p>“I don’t know. This might be the weirdest <em> I’ve </em>ever seen. Do you remember posing for this portrait?”</p><p>Jack hummed in thought. “Not this one in particular. But I have had a few done, in the past.”</p><p>“Why does that not surprise me?”</p><p>“There’s something <em> quite </em>homoerotic in being the muse of an eccentric, young artist,” Jack said, his eyes going off to the left in the way Ianto had come to know as the sign that Jack was remembering a particularly fond - or at least filthy - memory. “Though I’ve never been painted nude, would you believe it? We ought to try it some time.”</p><p>Ianto snorted and tried not to think about how dreadful his own painting skills were. “Is the painting dangerous?”</p><p>“My vortex manipulator isn’t bringing anything up. Probably just fallen through time.”</p><p>“Then what do you plan on doing with it?”</p><p>Jack grinned and held the painting up. “Oh, I can think of a few ideas.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> 5th October, 9:08 AM </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A loud, clanging noise of metal hitting the floor reverberated across the Hub, drawing the attention of all four other occupants to the medical bay where the noise had sounded from.</p><p>“Bloody, <em> fuck </em>!” Owen’s voice rang out before heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Toshiko turned away from her program, which was taking its time in compiling this morning. Perhaps a distraction could help get her through the start of the workday.</p><p>“Is anybody going to tell me why, when I get down to <em> my </em>medical bay, I’ve been gifted a large painting of our dear Captain?” the medic demanded, stomping into a frozen statue of annoyance at the top of the stairs.</p><p>The room fell silent until Tosh became aware of a quiet sniggering coming from the walkway above them. She turned to see Jack himself, his grin wide and unapologetic from where he stood, hands folded across his chest.</p><p>“I don’t know <em> what </em>you’re talking about, Owen,” Jack very obviously lied, walking down the stairs until he had also joined them on the same level.</p><p>“Yes, you bloody well do! Where the fuck did you get it from?” Owen retorted, his eyes narrowing.</p><p>Just then, Tosh saw Ianto enter the floor, complete with a metal tray with five coffees on top of it. “Coffee?” he asked them all. Tosh watched as his eyes moved between Owen and Jack, and something seemed to click in his mind. “Ah. This is about the painting, isn’t it?”</p><p>“How do you know about the painting?” Owen demanded, now turning his suspicions onto Ianto.</p><p>“I was there when it arrived.”</p><p>“Arrived?” Tosh asked, joining the conversation. </p><p>Jack turned to look at her. “Last night, in the Hub. Around three-thirty in the morning?” he offered, turning to Ianto for confirmation.</p><p>“Nearly quarter to four.” Ianto nodded in agreement, and Tosh tried not to think about what her two colleagues were doing together at that time. She blinked a blush away.</p><p>“I don’t know what I thought you two did in the Hub, but Ianto painting Jack certainly wasn’t it,” Owen decided, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“Wait, Ianto paints?” a Welsh voice asked as Gwen entered the room</p><p>“I don’t paint!” Ianto spluttered, looking horrified. Tosh laughed as an image of Ianto in a French beret standing up at an easel, complete with a pencil moustache, appeared in her mind. “It came through the Rift.”</p><p>Now, <em> that </em>caught Tosh’s attention. She immediately sat up straighter. A painting through the Rift? “The Rift?” she repeated, looking at Ianto who nodded in response.</p><p>“So you put it in my medical bay?” Owen asked, incredulously.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Gwen interrupted, looking very confused. “What’s going on here?”</p><p>Ten minutes later, the five Torchwood employees had found themselves down in the medical bay, staring at the painting which adorned Owen’s wall. Tosh couldn’t help but laugh at the drawing, so obviously Jack and yet so unlike him at the same time. They all knew that Jack was immortal and had been on Earth for a long time, but the sight of him in Victorian clothing was enough to make her giggle.</p><p>“Well…” Gwen started but trailed off as she evidently couldn’t think of anything to say.</p><p>“Personally, I want this <em> out </em>of my medical bay. It’s creepy, for one, and downright disrespectful to the newly-deceased that I have to autopsy here,” Owen argued, reaching up a hand to touch the painting.</p><p>“Stop!” Jack ordered sharply, his glare all of a sudden heated and slightly angry. As soon as Owen’s hand halted its movement, the expression disappeared, returning to Jack’s normal carefree smile. “I’ll take it upstairs if you <em> really </em>don’t want me staring at you while you work.”</p><p>Owen made a rude gesture, and Tosh watched as Jack walked over to the painting, intent on picking it up. “Wait. If it came through the Rift, shouldn’t we scan it first to check it’s not dangerous?”</p><p>Jack turned to stare at her, and Tosh felt an inexplicable chill go down her spine. “I already did, last night.”</p><p>“You scanned it with your vortex manipulator, which we all know doesn’t always produce the most accurate results,” Ianto pointed out, and Tosh sent him a thankful smile for backing her up.</p><p>“It’s harmless,” Jack insisted, picking it up off the wall despite their conversation. “Look, it’s just a portrait of me that fell through time and space. Nothing to worry about.”</p><p>Tosh glanced back at Ianto, who shared her slightly worried glance, but before they could say anything else, Jack had left the medical bay, painting in hand.</p><p>“I have a report to finish,” Gwen said after a few seconds, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. As if on cue, Owen stood up and began to move.</p><p>“Yeah, you lot can get out of my bay. I’m already behind, thanks to Jack and his painting,” Owen grumbled, and Tosh decided it was best not to provoke him further.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> 7th October, 11:29 AM </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Gwen hovered awkwardly outside the door to Jack’s office, worrying the corner of the stack of paperwork she was intending to get her boss to sign off. It was a slow morning, no Rift alerts to distract her, nor any new alien objects for her to play with. Regrettably, the large pile of paperwork on her desk had become her only source of entertainment, though the promise of an early evening home to surprise Rhys with made her smile and write twice as fast. Perhaps she could even make dinner, if no Rift spike interrupted her plans before five. Though, on the other hand, her making dinner might be more of a danger to the population of Cardiff than a rogue alien.</p><p>Her hand faltered just before she knocked at Jack’s door, hearing two voices coming from inside. The glass was frosted, as it had been all day, and she found herself lowering her fist in curiosity.</p><p>With a glance behind her to check that neither Owen or Tosh were watching her, Gwen stepped closer to the door and strained her ears to hear in. She was only momentarily startled by the portrait of Jack, which had somehow managed to find its way into the main area of the Hub. It hung, staring down at them, just to the side of the basketball hoop (in Gwen’s opinion, just waiting for a basketball to accidentally tear through the canvas). </p><p>“-just saying, you seem to have been on edge the past few days,” a voice, unmistakably Ianto’s, said, tearing Gwen from her thoughts.</p><p>“On edge?” Jack’s voice thundered out, as if trying to prove Ianto’s point.</p><p>Gwen paused for a moment and thought. She couldn’t deny that Jack <em> had </em> seemed on edge, if not a bit <em> bitchy </em>this morning and the previous day. He’d been quite irritable, seemingly finding problems with anything the team did. Hell, he’d gone off in a mood to his office this morning when he’d discovered the rest of the team were doing paperwork, instead of being - as Gwen had assumed he would be - grateful that they were finally tying up the loose ends around the admin work.</p><p>She hoped this didn’t mean they would have to stay in late, after all.</p><p>“Yes. You’ve been in a mood. What’s wrong?”</p><p>There was a pause, and Gwen tried to picture the two speakers in her head. Jack would be sat at his desk, his arms folded in a show of manly indifference to Ianto’s questions. Ianto would be… well, Gwen wasn’t sure where Ianto would be standing. Would he have sat in the chair in front of the desk? Or perhaps leant against the other side of the desk, closer to Jack?</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong, Ianto,” Jack said, sounding exasperated.</p><p>“Then why’ve you been finding fault in every little thing that’s gone wrong, recently? You wouldn’t sign my report yesterday because I typed the date wrong.”</p><p>“I know you would’ve gone back and reprinted it correctly anyway,” Jack replied.</p><p>“That is <em> not </em>my point.”</p><p>There was a pause. Gwen wondered if she should enter but was by now too curious at the real reason behind Jack’s bad mood.</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong, Ianto,” Jack said. In the silence that followed, Gwen could almost see the eyebrow that Ianto would be raising at that statement. “Look, don’t you trust me?”</p><p>“Of course I trust you,” Ianto replied, all too quickly. “But it would be nice to know that when I notice something is up, you trust me back and can tell me about it.”</p><p>Jack gave a laugh, short and cold. Gwen’s brows narrowed. “Ianto. Considering what’s happened in the past, me trusting you <em> that </em>much is a bit of a tall order.”</p><p>Struggling not to gasp out loud, Gwen put her hand to her mouth. It had been well over half a year since the only event Gwen could think of that Jack could be alluding to in his reply. She couldn’t quite believe that Jack would bring up the old wound, knowing it was something the entire team had by now forgiven Ianto for. Jack <em> especially, </em>she would’ve thought.</p><p>After a lengthy pause, Ianto’s voice returned, so quiet and timid that Gwen had to press her ear to the crack in the door to make out his words.</p><p>“I thought… I thought we were past that, sir?” he said, his voice trembling so much that Gwen wanted to burst into the room and hurry him into a hug. How <em> dare </em>Jack use Lisa as a weapon in this argument?</p><p>“You lied to me for months,” Jack continued, venom in his words.</p><p>Ianto took in a deep breath, loudly enough that Gwen could hear it. “You don’t really mean that. You’re just bringing it up because you’re in a bad mood and want to take it out on me. You don’t mean it.”</p><p>There was a harsh laugh, and before Jack could say anything else, Gwen had had enough. She burst forwards into the room, barely remembering to announce her arrival with a knock at the door.</p><p>Jack, as she had pictured, was sitting in his chair, arms folded as he lay back lazily, the chair almost tipping over as he leant backwards on it. Despite the argument she had overheard, he didn’t appear to look any different to the Jack that Gwen was used to, as if unaffected by what was going on. Ianto, on the other hand, was frozen, his face creased enough for Gwen to notice his worry and hurt. He was holding a few files in front of him, almost as if to protect himself, and was standing off to the side of the desk, further than an arm's reach away from Jack but not so far that it looked awkward.</p><p>“Gwen!” Jack called, grinning widely. Gwen tried her hardest to give him a neutral response, not wanting to give away what she had been listening in on their conversation, but still unwilling to pretend she hadn’t heard him rip into Ianto minutes prior.</p><p>Ianto turned to glance at her, his perfectly practiced mask already in place. “Excuse me.”</p><p>Brushing past Gwen, he was out of the door before either of the other two occupants could argue. Gwen had half a mind to follow him, but Jack was talking to her before she could decide one way or the other.</p><p>“Weevil hunting?” Jack asked, standing up to grab at his coat.</p><p>Gwen stared at him.  “Don’t you usually take-” she began, but cut herself off at the look Jack sent her. His eyes were ever so slightly hardened, accentuated enough by the light crease in his brow to put her off her sentence. </p><p>She swallowed and nodded.</p><p>And then, in contrast, Jack was suddenly grinning at her like an overexcited puppy. “Great! Let’s go.”</p><p>As they left the building, Gwen tried not to think about Ianto, probably sat alone and brooding in the archives. <em> Later, </em> she vowed to herself, <em> I’ll check if he’s alright later on. </em></p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> 9th October, 7:35 PM </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It had been a difficult day for Toshiko.</p><p>It was one of those days where the walls would seemingly press closer together and harsh voices would jolt and intimidate her as if she were back in a small, barren cell, hopeless for the future with no means of escape. Perhaps it was the early Rift alert that had interrupted her dreams or the irritable mood Jack (and therefore the majority of the team) had been in for the past few days - or, perhaps, a combination of everything. Every small argument that had started out made her want to cower away in fear; every moment of peace and quiet made the walls come crashing in once more as the silence suffocated her mind.</p><p>Ianto – selfless, good-natured Ianto – had of course noticed this. Cups of jasmine tea had appeared out of nowhere on the side of her desk at regular intervals, and that afternoon Ianto had asked for her help on completing the last batch of paperwork for the items he’d recently catalogued in the archives. She was certain he would’ve preferred to get on with the work himself in the lower levels but was very grateful for the distraction.</p><p>When Gwen and Owen had said goodnight and the thought of returning to her empty home had entered Tosh’s mind, Ianto had appeared once more. This time, he was holding a metallic object, dulled with use around the edges. It had a long end, which Ianto held it by, and a flat surface at the other side, darker than the rest of it. Tosh was drawn immediately to it.</p><p>“Found this in the archives,” Ianto explained, his spare hand in his trouser pocket as he walked up to Tosh’s desk. </p><p>“Do you know what it is?”</p><p>“No idea.” He shrugged and placed it down on the desk.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Tosh had figured out that it was for sure an alien device and had a beautiful set of wiring underneath the surface, once she had taken the outer layer off. It wasn’t anything similar to human wiring but consisted of pink thin metallic sheets, and a viscous liquid metal running through grooves in the design. She had taken a small sample of the liquid and put it into the device at the corner of her desk, which would tell her what particles it was composed of and how old the particles dated. If she was <em> particularly </em> clever (and, of course, she <em> was </em>), she would put these results into her database and analyse any similarities or patterns between other substances they’d found before.</p><p>But it was getting late, and while Tosh was very happy to stay in the Hub as long as she physically could, it appeared that someone else wasn’t happy with that idea.</p><p>“Tosh?” Jack called, moving closer to her in a few steps.</p><p>Tosh straightened her back and turned around in her chair to face her boss. His voice hadn’t sounded particularly harsh, compared to the terrible mood he had been in this morning, but she still found herself intimidated by his raised eyebrow.</p><p>“Yes?” she responded, meeting his eyes.</p><p>Jack sent her a small smile, a grin that almost looked playful. “So, I was thinking. It’s probably about time you went home for the evening.”</p><p>As Tosh paused, unable to come up with a response, Jack slowly brought his left hand upwards and began to crack every knuckle in each of his fingers. The noises were loud, echoing off the walls and cracking harshly, as if Jack was breaking his own bones.</p><p>“You’re the only one left in the Hub, so…” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t his fault that he was trying to chuck her out of the workplace.</p><p>But then, a thought entered Tosh’s brain, and she creased her eyebrows together in thought. “Isn’t Ianto still working in the tourist office?”</p><p>Jack’s grin immediately turned into a satisfied leer. “<em> Oh </em> yeah.” He smirked, mouth staying slightly open as his tongue wet his lip quickly, almost unnoticeably. “Which is <em> kinda </em>why I’d like you to leave. Say… right now?”</p><p>Tosh froze and stared at him. She thought of her empty flat, cold and lifeless, and looked back at her desk, where the perfect distraction (that Ianto <em> himself </em> had brought her) rested. The Welshman, at least, would understand if she stayed later, right? In fact, it was downright <em> odd </em> that Jack was suggesting… well, <em> that, </em>if Ianto had practically invited her to stay longer in the Hub.</p><p>Trying not to sound too defiant, Tosh went to voice her thoughts. “Actually...Ianto gave me this to look at. I’m not too far off finishing the analysis, so-”</p><p>Something hideous flashed momentarily in Jack’s eyes, pupils darkening as his expression set like stone. His fists clenched at his side - and then the look was gone, as suddenly as it had appeared.</p><p>Tosh leaned backwards, spine rigid as she tried to put distance between them. Jack, however, didn’t seem to notice, and instead made his way over to her desk.</p><p>“Gravitation crystal detector,” he quickly spoke, grabbing the device and slamming the cover back over its circuitry in frustration. “Used by the Urbankans and Trakenites, far off in the future, to detect gravitational waves.”</p><p>Tosh’s mouth opened, but no words came out as Jack chucked the device back onto the desk. “God, Tosh, it’s primitive technology. You’ve been working on it for so long this evening and couldn’t get anywhere with it? You’re pretty much useless,” he spat, folding his arms tightly across his chest as he glared at her. “I don’t want to ask you again, so just <em> go home. </em>”</p><p>Still shell-shocked by his outburst, Tosh stood for a few seconds, frozen in place. When Jack let out a menacing growl and untucked his arms from each other, her legs finally decided to move again, and Tosh was off.</p><p>She grabbed her bag and walked as quickly as she could, not looking back until she was out of his line of sight. Exiting the Hub, she came up to the tourist office, finally allowing herself to stop momentarily as she leant back on the door to catch her breath.</p><p>“Hello,” a voice called, interrupting her respite.</p><p>Tosh turned and saw Ianto standing, leaning back against the tourist office desk. His eyes were warm and open, if a little inquisitive as he took in her appearance.</p><p>“Ianto.”</p><p>“Are you okay?” he asked, his face changing to look concerned as Tosh raised an arm up to wipe at her slightly damp eyes.</p><p>“I’m fine,” she lied, looking away from her friend in the hopes that he wouldn’t see.</p><p>An arm landed on her shoulder, causing her to jolt in shock before she registered that it was making soothing circular motions, not gripping her in order to hurt her.</p><p>“What did he do?” Ianto asked, sounding resigned.</p><p>Tosh whipped her head to look at Ianto, wondering how he knew that it was Jack at fault here. <em> Then again, </em> she supposed, <em> if anybody had any chance of knowing what was up with Jack, it was the man standing in front of her now. </em></p><p>“Nothing, really-” she said, putting her own hand on top of Ianto’s as she turned back to look at him again. “He just told me to leave.”</p><p>Ianto looked tired, the bags under his eyes more prominent in the lower light of the evening. “Did you finish up with the tech I gave you?”</p><p>“No...well, yes. Jack did for me.”</p><p>“Ah,” Ianto said and looked almost guilty for a moment. “Well, I was hoping he wouldn’t ruin your fun.”</p><p>“Ruin my fun?” Tosh echoed, then realised. “Oh. You already knew what it was.”</p><p>Ianto grinned sheepishly at her. “I… did, yeah. Jack had identified it before. But he’d marvelled over the circuit, explained to me exactly what each bit did, and I thought you might appreciate it. Today, especially.”</p><p>Tosh felt a little bit of the ball of nerves that had grown inside her stomach when Jack had appeared begin to ease away at Ianto’s kindness. She squeezed his hand and flashed him a grin.</p><p>“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”</p><p>They stood in silence for a few moments, just breathing and trying to enjoy the calmness that was settling over them. Tosh almost thought she would be able to face going home, when-</p><p>“Ianto!”</p><p>Jack’s voice, harsh even when muffled from behind the door, permeated into the tourist office. Tosh remembered his bad mood, that <em> she </em>had inadvertently caused, and froze. She saw Ianto tense beside her too.</p><p>“Ianto!” Jack snapped again, this time sounding louder. He was approaching the door. “I’ve been waiting all day to absolutely <em> ruin </em>you. Get your ass in here, now!”</p><p>Tosh caught Ianto’s eye. She could see traces of both embarrassment and fear in him and suddenly found she didn’t want to go home at all.</p><p>“Ianto. You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” she said softly, watching as he smoothed over his tie.</p><p>“Someone has to tame the beast,” he tried to joke, but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.</p><p>“He doesn’t- he wouldn't ever <em> hurt </em>you, or anything, would he?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer or not.</p><p>“<em> No, </em>” Ianto scoffed, shaking himself out of his momentary nerves. “I’m not too intimidated by him to stand up for myself, Tosh.”</p><p>Tosh blushed slightly. “I didn't mean- I wasn’t trying to imply you were weak, or-”</p><p>“Tosh,” Ianto spoke, fixing her a small smile. “It’s fine. Go home, put your favourite movie on, and come to work tomorrow morning like normal. Jack’s being a bitch at the moment and taking it out on all of us. But he’ll get over himself, and everything will go back to normal.”</p><p>Tosh returned his smile, and before she could second guess herself, she pulled him into a tight hug.</p><p>“Ianto!” Jack shouted for a third time, effectively pulling the two of them apart.</p><p>“I better go,” Ianto said, taking a deep breath. “Have a good night.”</p><p>“You too,” Tosh replied, and really, <em> really </em>hoped that he would.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> 10th October, 6:18 PM</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jobs for today</p>
<ul>
<li>Civilian #1 Autopsy</li>
<li>Civilian #2 Autopsy</li>
<li><strike>Torture Gwen over happy relationship</strike></li>
<li>Don’t torture Gwen over happy relationship, you’ll only make yourself fucking depressed</li>
<li>Get Ianto to understand the last coffee brand is better than this new shit</li>
<li>Finish autopsy reports</li>
<li>Remember to lock up the autopsy bay at the end of the day so nobody messes it up tomorrow</li>
<li>Remind Jack that I won’t be in tomorrow</li>
<li>Buy enough alcohol to drown myself tonight</li>
</ul><p>Owen looked down at his post-it note of jobs that he had to complete by the end of this current work day. He went down the list, striking through each task that he had managed to do, leaving only ‘Get Ianto to understand the last coffee brand is better than this new shit’ (which he circled in frustration) and the last two lines on the list.</p><p>Looking up at his boss’ office, Owen took a deep breath.</p><p>Owen knew, naturally, he was a bit of a bastard. It was his personality: the rude, grumpy team medic who took too much enjoyment out of picking on his team mates. And the team dealt with it - they argued back at him when he was in a mood and weren’t afraid to really fight when he took everything a step too far. Of course, none of the other workers could be considered <em> angels, </em>and he knew deep down that his coworkers weren’t naive enough to believe his heartless charade in its entirety. </p><p>But Owen was used to being the <em> only </em>real bastard in Torchwood Three. Now with Jack also in an almost week-long bad mood, the tension in the Hub was high. And nowhere was it higher than between Jack and Owen.</p><p>There’d been seven full-blown arguments, five shouting matches and three coffee mugs broken so far this week - and it was only Wednesday. </p><p>Owen looked at his watch, noting the time. He’d finished all of his work for the day and knew he was simply procrastinating the talk he needed to have with Jack. The 11th October had never officially been booked as his day off, but Jack had never called him out for it. Not after the first anniversary, when he’d found Owen passed out in his own home, far too hungover to come into work or do anything at all except mope. Jack had dragged him up, made him presentable, and ushered him into the passenger seat of the SUV. By the time they’d entered London, Owen had caught onto what was happening, and the flowers Jack had brought to leave on the grave had drawn sobs out of Owen that he didn’t realise he was holding in.</p><p>After that, it had become a tradition of Owen’s on this anniversary: get pissed, wake up with a blinding pain in his head, take a couple alien hangover pills, then finally drive down to London with a large bouquet of flowers.</p><p>But before he could head home to his date with a bottle of vodka, he had to face Jack one last time.</p><p>“Come in,” Jack called, after Owen had dragged himself up to knock on his boss’ door at last.</p><p>Owen entered the room, closing the door behind him on the off-chance that anybody else still in the Hub would hear his conversation. Only Jack knew about the significance of tomorrow, though Owen wouldn’t be surprised if Ianto was also aware - either through Jack, or from reading his file in the archives. The tosser seemed to know just about everything.</p><p>“Sit,” Jack ordered, but Owen stood his ground. He wasn’t going to stay long, and he wasn’t up for another argument. It was bad enough that he had to remind Jack of his vulnerability; he didn’t think he could take Jack insulting him over this. Somehow, he wasn’t sure he’d have a choice in the matter.</p><p>“Not gonna be long, I was just heading out,” he explained as he leaned back against the door.</p><p>“What do you want?”</p><p>Owen took a moment, closed his eyes briefly, and reminded himself of the bottle of alcohol he had waiting for him at home, once he’d had this conversation. “It’s the 11th tomorrow. Just wanted to check you’re all good to be a man down.”</p><p>Jack seemed to regard him for a moment. “What’s special about tomorrow?”</p><p>Owen froze.</p><p>“I... What do you mean?” he stumbled. “You know what day it is.”</p><p>Jack raised both of his eyebrows and leant back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “What’s special about tomorrow, Owen? Tell me.”</p><p>“No. You know what tomorrow is. I just need to check that it’s okay to be off tomorrow, not-” he tried to explain, feeling the beginnings of nerves and anger simmering under his skin.</p><p>“<em> Tell me, </em>Owen.”</p><p>Jack fixed him an interrogative, harsh look, his hands coming down to hit the desk hard. Owen flinched at the noise.</p><p>“I don’t need to do this,” Owen decided, rage bubbling.</p><p>“How long has it been now, Owen? Four years?”</p><p>“Jack,” Owen growled, warningly. His hands itched all of a sudden, cheek twitching.</p><p>“Four whole years. And you still can’t even say it out loud. What right do you have to take the day off tomorrow? Is it because you can’t cope? You’re too weak?” Jack spat, and Owen saw red.</p><p>He stormed forwards to Jack’s desk, slamming his hands down on it as he knocked mugs and files onto the floor. “Four fucking years ago, my <em> fiance </em> died. The love of my life, dead. Right in front of me. I see it in my sleep, in my nightmares - and <em> you want to know what right I have to mourn her?” </em></p><p>For a moment, Jack looked victorious, the juxtaposition of his animalistic rage against his triumphant grin being almost enough to confuse Owen quiet.</p><p>The key word there was ‘almost.’</p><p>“How many years have you been alive, Jack? I fucking <em> pity </em> you if you’ve never loved anyone strong enough to know how I feel,” Owen shouted, his head throbbing with pain and fury. He wasn’t sure if the stinging in his eyes was from his overwhelming emotions or from – God forbid – actual tears. “So <em> yes - </em> I’m taking fucking tomorrow off, because I miss Katie. But that doesn’t make me in any way <em> weak. </em>If you think love is a weakness, then I’m sorry for you. You’re an arrogant bastard, and I’m leaving.”</p><p>Owen snarled his final sentence, then turned around to open the door. Before he could leave, a glass shattered only a metre away from his right ear. He whipped around in shock.</p><p>Jack was standing, his arm still raised from throwing the glass at Owen.</p><p>“Go the <em> fuck </em>home, Owen. Or else, I won’t be held accountable for my next action.”</p><p>For one moment, Owen felt genuine, absolute terror fill his bones. Jack was seething – as angry as Owen had ever seen him before. Worse than any anger he’d seen on him so far this week – which was saying something, because Jack had been downright <em> aggressive </em>for the last few days. Briefly, Owen wondered if there may be something wrong with him – something beyond just a bad mood – but he didn’t have any energy left in him to entertain the idea for much longer.</p><p>He needed to get out of the Hub. Right now.</p><p>As he hurried out of Jack’s office, he could’ve sworn that the painting that hung on the wall was goading him, a malign grin amongst Jack’s grotesque expression.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As last time, thanks to Nik again for beta reading this chapter!!! <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds">princessoftheworlds</a>.  Enjoy this one!! (Or don't! Depending on your opinion of what happens here!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>13th October, 6:03 AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto woke, for the third time in the past week, alone in Jack’s bunker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a sigh, dropping his head back against a pillow as he stretched far across the bed, trying to ignore how the other side felt cold with the absence of a second person. He’d thought after last night - being held carefully, fucked slowly yet passionately, for a change - that Jack might finally have gotten out of the mood he’d been in all week. When Owen had taken his day off, things had been quieter at the Hub. Jack had been broody, but not angry, and when Ianto had woken up yesterday morning, it had been to Jack’s arms tight around him, snores light and peaceful in the underground bunker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And unless Jack was out buying a surprise breakfast for the two of them to share (which he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because they may have been loosely dating, but they weren’t that obvious by </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> with their emotions), Ianto was going to be presented with another moody, cranky Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and rolled out of bed. Better to rip the plaster off and face the new day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a short glimmer of light coming down from the open entrance to Jack’s bunker, only light enough to dimly illuminate the room. Now that his eyes had started to adjust to the darkness, Ianto was just about able to see his surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staring back at him, the expression somehow more serious and irritated than he remembered it being, was the painting of Jack. Ianto was drawn to the eyes, so strikingly blue that they appeared to be glowing in the dark. But other than the eyes, the rest of the painting looked darker - perhaps in the shadows of the low-light. If Ianto didn’t know better, he’d say the painting had changed somehow.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was the painting now down in Jack’s bunker? Was Jack really that egotistical that he wanted to look at his own face when falling asleep? Or was this just an odd kink that he hadn’t admitted to yet? Either way, it was downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Ianto wasn’t sure he was going to be able to shag Jack in this room if the creepy painting was staring back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But despite the grotesque aura surrounding the painting, there was something inexplicably captivating about it. Ianto reached out a hand, his fingers so close he could almost feel the paint on his fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a sudden klaxon noise sounded, indicating the return of Jack himself, and Ianto yanked his hand away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto!” He heard Jack call, once the din had subsided. “Coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a question, not a request even. It was an order, and Ianto had half a mind to ignore him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he thought about the possible consequences of such disobedience, and decided that a non-caffeinated, furious Jack would be an entirely new level of ‘bad.’</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>13th October, 1:03 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to order you the usual from the Chinese, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto, popping his head around the corner of the heavy metal door that led to the gun range, watched as Jack took off the yellow earmuffs that guarded him from the noise his Webley was making. Ianto hadn’t been so lucky, and his ears were still ringing from the shot Jack had let out before he had noticed Ianto’s presence. He glanced at the targets, noting the numerous bullet holes that littered the figures, and made a mental note to check up on the stock supply of .455 cartridges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack put the ear coverings down on the table beside him, and his hands fell limp from their shooting position. Ianto regarded him, noting the way his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, saw the beads of sweat running down the side of his head, and swallowed as he looked into Jack’s dark, dilated pupils.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, what did you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked what you wanted for lunch, sir, from the Chinese.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no - I heard what you said,” Jack said, slowly advancing on Ianto. “What I want to know is,” - he lay his free hand on Ianto’s hip, squeezing it - “why we’re getting Chinese when we had it two days ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slightly intimidated by their close proximity, Ianto tried to take a step backwards, but Jack’s hand tightened on him and kept him in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen,” Ianto elaborated, once his voice had returned. “Owen wanted Chinese.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack closed his eyes and slowly opened them again, staring right into Ianto’s own. Chills erupted down Ianto’s spine as his breath caught.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did, did he? Tell me, Ianto. When did Owen become the boss of Torchwood Three?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto swallowed again and tried to look anywhere but at Jack’s face. “He didn’t. But he asked for Chinese, and I just thought-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You. Just. Thought,” Jack cut in, reaching his other hand up to press against Ianto’s other side. Except it wasn’t a walm palm that was tracing the edge of his ribs. It was the cold pressure of a metal barrel, pressing just harshly enough that Ianto couldn’t help but let out a quiet hiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto felt paralysed, too scared to move even an inch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I employ you to think?” Jack asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto opened his mouth, then closed it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to answer ‘yes’ - that he of course was a useful employee and had a pretty extensive knowledge that he’d picked up over the years he’d worked for Torchwood. But the gun against his side and the short-fuse Jack was running on made him stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your job is to make us coffee, to clean up after us, and to lay back and let me fuck you whenever I want to. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect </span>
  </em>
  <span>secretary. And,” Jack continued, running his gun and hand further up Ianto’s chest. “When you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good boy, we sometimes let you join us on field missions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto let out a terrified whimper as Jack’s gun pressed into his collar through his suit. As he took in a shaky breath, he could’ve sworn that Jack’s usual scent was </span>
  <em>
    <span>different, </span>
  </em>
  <span>somehow. Less comforting and more… cold. Intense. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dangerous. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack leant in closer, so his lips were close to Ianto’s right ear. Ianto’s legs trembled - and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the fun way. If it wasn’t for Jack’s questionable mental state, he would’ve pushed his boss away and made a run for it by now - but the gun left him immobilized and stuck in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But above all else, your job is to listen to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If I tell you to clean my desk, you clean my desk. If I tell you to get down on your knees, you get down on your knees.” Jack paused for a moment to trail his Webley along Ianto’s trembling jaw. “And if I tell you to order Indian takeaway for lunch, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you order Indian takeaway for lunch.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Do I make myself clear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the tip of a gun poking his cheek and Jack’s words still ringing in his ear, Ianto nodded as lightly as he could. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Jack prompted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Ianto stuttered out, wanting nothing more than to run, faraway from Jack and the gun range and the metal against his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” Jack said, pulling back all of a sudden and patting Ianto on the cheek with his empty hand. “Go order some lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto took a long moment to compose himself as Jack walked over to the table and reached for his earmuffs again. Then, Ianto found his legs were finally complying again, and he scurried away to sort out lunch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to talk to the others about Jack. There was something </span>
  <em>
    <span>seriously </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong with him, and Ianto worried that if they didn’t act soon, something – or somebody – was going to pay the price.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just over half an hour later, Ianto returned to the Hub, bags of food in his arms. It appeared that his coworkers had some sort of super-enhanced sense of smell for takeaway, because it took all of five seconds for Owen, Tosh and Gwen’s faces to pop up and look at the entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto,” Owen said, hurrying over to grab one of the bags out of his arms. “You’re a saint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Owen walked towards the conference room, Ianto was amused to see that he had already started chewing on some prawn toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where Jack is?” Gwen asked as she too took a bag, walking alongside Ianto at a more leisurely pace than Owen and Tosh’s quick scurrying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was in the gun range, last I saw him,” Ianto replied, trying to act nonchalant despite the way his stomach clenched at the memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call him,” Gwen said, reaching up to press a finger to her comms unit. Ianto didn’t fail to notice the once-over Gwen gave him, as if wondering what him and Jack might have been up to in the sound-proofed gun range. He would have laughed if the reality wasn’t so different to what Gwen no doubt was assuming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five minutes, and a good few mouthfuls of food later, Jack’s heavily booted footsteps were heard clambering up the stairs to the conference room. There was a collective intake of breath as the door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it loudly with the strength Jack pushed it with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kids,” Jack said, quickly surveying the room. The hubbub of conversation around the table immediately dried up, and Ianto noticed Owen scowl down at his rice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto braved a look upwards and was startled to be met by a cool, steely glare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” Jack asked, almost accusingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lunch,” Ianto said, feeling safe enough in the company of three other people, who no doubt wouldn’t let Jack pull out a gun and shoot him right here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I told you to get Indian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did,” Gwen said, through a mouthful of noodles. She swallowed, then continued. “He went to both takeaways, the dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto smiled calmly at Jack, who was still standing tall in the entrance to the room. “Sorry if yours is a bit cold, sir. Only, I went to the Indian first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, Ianto genuinely thought Jack was going to explode with rage right there and then. Neither Gwen, Tosh, nor Owen appeared to notice, though Ianto could tell Jack’s jaw was clenched heavily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Ianto,” Jack grit out through his teeth, finally moving to sit down at the head of the table. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>I repay you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t start with any of that while we eat lunch...” Owen groaned, shooting Ianto an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto ignored Owen and caught the predatory gleam in Jack’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivered.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>13th October, 4:39 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of tapping keys on a computer keyboard was the only noise that could be heard in the Hub, bar the general ambient humming and periodic drips of water. Gwen gave a sigh and massaged her temples. Her headache felt strong enough that she was sure she could hear it echoing around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up at the clock, she reckoned it must have been at least four hours since she’d taken any painkillers, so Gwen popped two white tablets from their packaging and swallowed them with the slightly stale water she’d left on her desk. Once again, she lamented not asking Owen for some proper (well, perhaps more alien than ‘proper’) pain relief as he, Tosh, and Jack had been missing on a Weevil hunt for the majority of the afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s sad, empty coffee cup stood on her desk as if mocking her. Caffeine withdrawal wasn’t helping her situation either, but she hadn’t wanted to bother Ianto if at all possible. He’d been quieter recently, keeping to himself in the archives or the tourist office, and while the team might miss his more regular coffee schedule, they knew it was best to let Ianto sort himself out when he was in this kind of a mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But ignoring her friend could only get her so far. At some point, Gwen knew she was going to have to step in and check up on Ianto, and try to persuade him to open up to her. The argument she had overheard the other day had been haunting her ever since, twisting her insides guiltily as she tried to decide what to do about it. Did she admit she had overheard and confront her emotionally-guarded friend over the matter or play ignorant and let everything sort itself out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been happy to watch the situation for the time being, but Ianto had been particularly quiet that lunch. Obviously Jack wasn’t improving in mood, and she suspected Ianto wouldn’t until Jack was feeling better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A flash of protectiveness passed through Gwen as she thought of Ianto, alone and brooding in the archives. He was young, even for Torchwood’s standards, despite how much he’d already been put through in his short life. She hadn’t seen him quite this reclusive since… well, since Jack up and left for three months after laying dead in the morgue for three days. And she’d only combatted that situation by physically dragging Ianto out of the Hub, away from Jack’s bunker (where she’d been heartbroken to realise that he’d been sleeping).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d come up with a truce, of sorts - a truce which slowly bled into a fierce and fast friendship. Gwen was struggling to cope as Torchwood Three’s impromptu leader, and Ianto was struggling to cope with the sudden loss in his life. In short, Jack had left both of them in situations they didn’t know how to deal with, and Gwen had been surprised to find Ianto was the only person who </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood </span>
  </em>
  <span>exactly how she was feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, they’d filled each other’s void that Jack had left in their lives - obviously not in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact </span>
  </em>
  <span>way Jack had, for which Gwen was certainly glad - but with support and comfort that they were both lacking. Ianto had been her rock, supporting her from the background and giving her the confidence she needed to sleep with the decisions and bad conscience Torchwood Three’s leader was always plagued with. The paperwork was on hand whenever it was needed, and - more surprisingly - the offer of nights at the pub or sleeping on Ianto’s sofa bed were there too, whenever needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in response, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gwen had given Ianto the friendship and support he had been lacking for months, even before Jack had left. She’d been pretty horrified to hear some of the things that Ianto eventually allowed himself to open up to her about, and the thought that Jack had been the only person Ianto could fall back on made her feel incredibly guilty for not noticing sooner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Jack had returned, there was something new about Ianto - and, Gwen supposed, herself too. She wasn’t the newbie anymore, not the rookie who still felt a bit out of place amongst the others. And she’d been ecstatic to hear, in a hushed voice on Ianto’s sofa, while they waited for time to catch up with itself after John Hart had happened, that Jack had actually asked Ianto out on a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Perhaps at the beginning of the three months, Gwen would have hesitated to feel quite so happy for him, but looking at her strong, now more courageous than shy friend, she knew this was what he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To see that bravery and snark hiding away in the archives again was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a good sign, and Gwen was pulling up scans of the archives to find where Ianto was before she knew it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Deep down into the archives she went, walking down flights of stairs that seemed never ending. Ianto was on the bottom floor, the cool, dark basement, and Gwen shivered as a chill passed through her. Perhaps it was the memory of the last time she’d been down here, searching for Ianto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flicked a light switch on, illuminating the dark corridor ahead. As she walked, she thought she could hear a noise echoing off the walls and picked up the pace. It was cold, and her jacket wasn’t doing much to guard her from the chill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning into the next room, she could make out rows of shelves, archived items spanning the walls and racks throughout the centre of the room. She reached again for a light switch, and gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto!” she cried, racing forwards to the curled up figure leaning against one of the shelves. His head was down, leaning on his legs as his arms held his shins, guarding himself from the surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t look up at her, not until she reached him and put her hands on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“G-Gwen?” he asked, voice hoarse. His eyes were red and puffy, and Gwen immediately reached a sleeve up to wipe at his cheek, deeply unsettled at seeing her friend like this. But before she could even touch him, his own hand reached up to intercept hers. “Don’t touch me! Get away. You need to get out of here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto, what are you talking about? Sweetheart?” she said, moving her hands off his shoulders. She didn’t want to touch him unnecessarily if it was going to make Ianto feel worse, despite her instinct to bundle him up into a hug and chase his worries away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s there. I can see the blood!” he spat out, letting out a sob that hit Gwen in the heart. She looked at his eyes, focused intensely on the entrance to the room, and she followed his line of vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further down the corridor she could see it. The room that she’d nearly lost her life in, strapped to half working cyber technology with blades that had been far too close to her face. She swallowed down her own nausea, then finally realised that this must be what was causing Ianto to react like he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no blood, Ianto. It’s okay. We’re safe; all of that happened long ago. You’re okay.” Gwen tried to comfort him, but Ianto shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s there, behind the door. I know she is! And the blood - it’s on my hands. It’s everywhere; it’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto broke off and tucked his head back in between his knees, letting out what sounded like a muffled scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get you out of here, love,” Gwen decided, reaching to gently but firmly hold his arm. Somehow, she was able to guide him up, letting him lean most of his weight on her as she made her way over to the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully for Gwen, the further away from the room they walked, the stronger Ianto seemed to get, and by the time they were three floors up, he was strong enough to walk on his own, if he wanted to (though he didn’t, if the way he was still clinging onto Gwen was any indication.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finally made it back to the top floor of the Hub, Gwen immediately pushing Ianto into her chair as she pulled Tosh’s over to sit next to him. She took his hands in hers and leaned forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Ianto slowly started, refusing to meet Gwen’s eyes. “I don’t know what that was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Gwen soothed, rubbing her thumb over Ianto’s knuckles. “Are you feeling okay now? Do I need to try to contact Owen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Ianto said quickly, snapping his head up to look at Gwen like a deer caught in headlights. “No. I’m fine; it was just being down there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you doing down there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto looked almost guilty for a second. He opened his mouth, as if trying to decide on the right words. “Jack. He sent me down there, to reorganise the shelves. And I… forgot, until I got there. Why I never go down to the lowest level, if I can’t help it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack made you go there?” Gwen deadpanned, feeling anger and protectiveness suddenly overwhelm her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto must have seen her anger, because he tried to move backwards from Gwen, looking nervous. Gwen took in a breath and collected herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he know where he was sending you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto gave a very small smile, one that did nothing to calm Gwen’s nerves. “I think so. He was… angry at me, earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen closed her eyes and took in yet another deep breath. Jack </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harkness was going to need a talking to when he returned to the Hub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto,” Gwen began, slowly, thinking about all the cases of terrified people she’d seen when working for the police, who were too quick to defend their partners and blamed their bruises on ‘accidents.’ “He hasn’t ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>you or anything, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment of hesitation that Ianto gave was enough to make Gwen’s heart plummet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He… pulled a gun on me this morning. Because,” Ianto said, swallowing. “Because I said we were having Chinese, and he didn’t want that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s jaw dropped. “Jesus fucking Christ!” she exclaimed, running a hand through her hair. “I thought you two were… How long, Ianto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not what you think. The gun was as bad as he’s got - he’s never properly hurt me or anything. He’s just been </span>
  <em>
    <span>irate </span>
  </em>
  <span>this past week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And taking it out on you?” Gwen asked hotly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of us. He’s been angry and argumentative with all of us. I just see a lot more of him than the rest of you,” Ianto said, then looked as if there was something else he wanted to say. Gwen waited, and he continued, “I think there’s something wrong with him. Something that’s making him act this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto, you know you don’t have to defend him?” Gwen said, trying to sound calm. “You don’t have to lie to me. If he’s hurting you, at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then you can tell me, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not listening,” Ianto continued, sounding frustrated. “This isn’t the Jack I know. Something is wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen mulled over his words. Ianto </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>one to lie outright to anybody. Lies of omission, on the other hand, were a different matter, but she didn’t think her friend was doing that now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was just about to reply when a sudden klaxon noise sounded, and three loud voices were heard from the entrance to the Hub.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>13th October, 5:01 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gwen! Ianto!” Tosh shouted, walking into the Hub as quickly as she could under the circumstances. Owen was leaning heavily on her, his arm slung over her shoulders as he let out more terrible groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh saw her other coworkers round the corner, then stop in shock. Presumably because the blood that was seeping out of Owen’s right side. They immediately ran over, pushing Tosh off as they took hold of Owen together, finally giving Tosh a break that her tired muscles were very grateful for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To top it all off, Jack suddenly entered the Hub, striding forwards with a grin as he deposited a Weevil on the floor behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any help, Jack?” Tosh shot at him, not even trying to hide her glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Gotta grab the other two bodies first.” Jack grinned and walked right out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh thought she might explode.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Ianto asked, and as Tosh looked at him, she wondered why his face looked so pale and his eyes so red. But a loud groan from Owen distracted her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weevil got him,” she explained and then raised her voice as if Jack might still be able to hear. “And then Jack fucking ran off after another Weevil while Owen was under attack!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he see Owen?” Gwen asked, carefully beginning to maneuver Owen down the stairs to the autopsy bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he saw Owen. And then he left,” she hissed, trying to regulate her emotions and focus on the job at hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Said something... about the... ‘thrill of the chase,’” Owen managed to get out under heavy breathing and sharp grunts of exertion. Tosh felt immensely relieved to hear his voice, with its usual snark and sarcasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached the autopsy bay, and between them, they managed to lever Owen carefully onto the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll grab some gauze,” Ianto decided, and ran across the room to start rummaging through the cupboards for the material. Tosh saw Gwen try to take her own jacket away from the wound, which she had been using to put pressure on the wound temporarily before they got back to the Hub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tosh - I’m gonna need an epidural for the pain,” Owen instructed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re having a baby, Owen?” Gwen asked sarcastically, electing an eye roll from Owen in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t we just use morphine?” Tosh asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not unless you want me falling asleep on you,” Owen replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He relayed to Tosh what she needed to find in his cupboards to give him the epidural. Ianto was still applying pressure to the wound through the gauze, and though Owen was grunting less, Tosh could still tell that he was in a lot of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, under his instructions, Tosh was able to give him the necessary injection, pressing the needle down into his lower spine. With the insert in place, Tosh set up the medication that would slowly start to numb the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was still the problem of the wide gash in his side, but the gauze had cleared away a lot of the blood, and the wound looked a lot less threatening now that his side was clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t to say that Tosh wasn’t still worried about Owen, who had given her a proper scare when she heard his scream ring out through the streets of Cardiff. And her rage at Jack hadn’t diminished one bit. She’d never seen him this reckless on a mission before, and as much as it angered her, it also </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span> her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Jack bloody Harkness’ fault,” Owen grumbled, echoing Tosh’s feelings. Having been a good few minutes since the pain medication had been applied, Ianto carefully pulled a needle through Owen’s skin to start the first of the stitches he was going to need. “He’s mental. Gone batshit crazy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh noticed Ianto’s hand jump slightly, as his concentration wavered. She was reminded of the other night, in the tourist office, after Jack had bitten her head off about the gravitation crystal detector, and the brief conversation they had had thereafter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been going on for at least a week, now!” Tosh pointed out. “You remember the other night, Ianto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto gave her a slightly guilty look, but Gwen whipped her head around. “What happened the other night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack verbally attacked Tosh when she was analysing a piece of technology, for no reason” Ianto explained quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then you had to deal with the fallout,” Tosh pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did?” Gwen asked, turning her sharp glare to Ianto. “You didn’t tell me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto shrugged. “He was angrier before with Tosh than when I went back in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he was still angry,” Tosh insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack’s always angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They paused and stared at each other. Ianto focused back on the stitches he was working on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went mental at me the other day. All because of my day off,” Owen offered, with a hint of tiredness to his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto flickered his eyes to look at Owen. “About that specific day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking uncomfortable all of a sudden, Owen nodded. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bastard,” Ianto growled, tying off the last stitch with a touch more force than was necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh shared a confused look with Gwen. Before she could open her mouth to question the two men, Ianto said, “I think there’s something wrong with him. This isn’t like him. He gets angry at times but never for this long. And he’s never ignored us when we’ve been injured before.” He stopped, then gave Owen a brief smirk. “Even when it’s Owen who’s injured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sod off,” Owen grumbled, but Tosh could hear an edge of friendliness to the bickering. Perhaps due to the fact that Ianto </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>just put multiple stitches in his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think so?” Tosh asked, raising an eyebrow at Ianto who nodded back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk to him,” Gwen cut in, nodding in agreement. “Confront him about it. He can’t shout at all of us at once, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh nodded at her in thought, seeing her point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen’s still injured, though,” Ianto pointed out. “And even once we take his epidural out, he’s not going to be able to walk for a few hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we’ll do it down here,” Owen decided, looking determined. “Tosh, could you help me get this needle out my back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh nodded and got to work. She briefly saw Ianto and Gwen having a silent conversation, full of raised eyebrows and cocked heads. They seemed to reach a decision at some point, because by the time Tosh had replaced the needle with a wad of gauze, they were standing up and making their way to the main area of the Hub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll go get Jack,” Gwen told Tosh, and they disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which left Tosh, on her own in the medical bay with an injured Owen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was still holding the gauze to his back, despite seeing a roll of medical tape that she could reach over and use. Looking at Owen’s injury again, now sewn up but still garish and grim, Tosh suddenly couldn’t stop herself from reaching her free hand over to put it on Owen’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jolted but then relaxed once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s the pain?” Tosh asked, rubbing his bare shoulder soothingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bearable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s… good,” Tosh said awkwardly. “Tell me if you need me to get you anything from the cupboards. Aspirin, or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good, Tosh,” Owen interrupted her. He hesitated. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna be able to get home easy tonight,” Owen pointed out after a few moments of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s okay.” Tosh was quick to reassure him. “I’ll help you. I can drive you to yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen turned his head to look at her, eyes half lidded, either with pain or tiredness. “Thank you, Tosh. Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached up a hand and placed it on top of hers, which was still resting on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before any more words could be uttered, there was a loud noise, and suddenly Jack, Gwen, and Ianto were standing on the landing, overlooking the medical bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Jack started, leaning against the metal rail as he looked between every member of his team, one by one. “What’s all this about? Don’t tell me you’ve planned another team mutiny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His joke fell on deaf ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he continued, when nobody responded. “Maybe it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a mutiny. Want me to hand you my weapons and stand with my hands on my head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid, Jack,” Gwen replied, shooting him a matching glare. “We just want to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack frowned, an all too familiar anger settling in his eyes. “That’s what they all say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sod off being so overdramatic,” Owen called from the autopsy table. “We’re talking about your mood.” Jack cocked an eyebrow and gestured for Owen to continue. “You’ve been angry for days, lashing out at all of us for pretty much no reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys,” Tosh interrupted, interrupting their childish argument. “Owen’s right. You have been pretty short with us this week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack denied, putting his hands on his hips. “It’s been a difficult few days, that’s all. Me being a little stressed doesn’t usually warrant an intervention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you haven’t just been a ‘little stressed,’ Jack,” Gwen pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure I have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You pulled a gun on Ianto this morning!” Gwen shouted, and Tosh froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room fell silent. Everybody was looking at Ianto, who looked like he wanted to shrink into his suit and hide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>gun</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Tosh echoed, noticing Owen looked as bewildered as her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was just a little bit of fun, right, Ianto?” Jack laughed, though his stare at the Welshman looked strenuous and tense, as if daring him to disagree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was nothing ‘fun’ about it,” Ianto said, after a few seconds. “I was bloody terrified.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s expression hardened. He started to speak again, his voice laced with sarcasm and danger. “Well, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry </span>
  </em>
  <span>for misjudging your kinks, Ianto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh saw something seem to snap inside of Ianto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you try to joke about this! For a moment earlier, I was genuinely fearful for my </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And that’s not to mention how you sent me down to Lisa’s floor in the archives, knowing what that would do to me!” he exploded, words flying fast and hard out of his mouth. “And that’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>! What about the other day, when you bit Tosh’s head off and made her cry? Or how horrible you were when Owen took his day off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack snarled and reared up, like a lion who had spotted its prey. Tosh cried out, but Gwen managed to get in front of Jack, blocking his way long enough for him to take a breath and stand back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see how it is.” Jack said, not looking at anybody now. “You all gather together, have a good old bitch about me, and then decide it’s time to get rid of me? You tell each other exaggerations, downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>lies </span>
  </em>
  <span>too, just to kick me out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what we’re doing!” Tosh shouted. “We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried </span>
  </em>
  <span>about you. This isn’t like you, Jack!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is like me! This is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>me! And you’re just seeing it properly, for the first time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not,” Ianto countered, shaking his head. “Jack, you’re lying. There’s something wrong… some alien force, or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack laughed, a horrible, grating cackle that silenced Ianto. “You guys don’t want me here? That’s fine. I’m gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jack!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gwen called, but it was too late. Jack had turned on his heels, storming out of the medical bay as he walked towards the exit to the Hub. Ianto caught Gwen as she tried to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” he warned when Gwen tried to break loose. “You don’t know what he’ll do in this state.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen let out a frustrated sob, then finally relaxed in Ianto’s arms. She let him pull her close, taking comfort in his arms. Tosh looked down at Owen, who at some point had gripped her hand tight and hadn’t let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that went bloody fantastic,” Owen quipped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can we do?” Tosh asked the room, ignoring Owen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen shook her head, and Ianto shrugged. “I don’t know,” he began. “We could try tracking him, but you know Jack. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be found.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’d bet he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn’t want to be found, right now,” Owen added, then let out a groan. “I’m sorry. Tosh? Any chance you could grab me some aspirin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh nodded and quickly walked towards the cupboard she knew held the pills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to rest, Owen,” Gwen decided, and Tosh privately agreed. “No point in you staying here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tosh said she’d get me home.” Owen added, and Gwen nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then Tosh - you take Owen back and then head home yourself,” Ianto told her, running a hand through his hair. “Gwen, I can hold down the fort here if you want to get back too. We’ll talk to Jack again tomorrow, when we’ve all calmed down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh passed Owen the pills and a glass of water to wash them down with. Judging by the grimage he showed when reaching out for the pills, he was grateful for the pain relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself, Ianto?” Tosh asked him, once she and Gwen had each taken one of Owen’s arms over their shoulders and lifted him out of the autopsy bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto flashed her a smile. “I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No heroism,” Gwen warned, pointing her hand at Ianto. “If Jack comes back angry, you either phone us or get out of the Hub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Ianto nodded.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>13th October, 11:02 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto knew he should leave the Hub - he should’ve left a good few hours ago at that - but there was some part of him that refused, just yet, to go back home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flickered over to Jack’s bunker for the third time in the past ten minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something down there; he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ianto couldn’t explain </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>he knew, but he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>did. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For some reason, he felt compelled to walk towards the bunker, to go down into Jack’s quarters and… Well. That was where his imagination failed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d done a scan on Mainframe and found that there was nothing human, alien, or otherwise living in the Hub bar him and the aliens in the cells. (And the pterodactyl, but Ianto had already been up to give Myfanwy attention earlier in the evening.) He was probably just being paranoid, intimidated by Jack’s anger, not to mention tired out from the eventful day. In fact, he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>been </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Jack’s bunker only this morning, and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto paused for a moment. He remembered the painting hanging on the wall, looking shadowed and disfigured in the dim light. Perhaps, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>there was a little more to the painting that fell through the Rift than they all immediately presumed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving the cup of coffee that he had just made on the surface of the kitchen area, Ianto made his way over to Jack’s office. His heart was beating fast as he descended the ladder, reaching the floor of Jack’s bunker. Then, he turned the light on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The painting in front of him had </span>
  <em>
    <span>changed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing like the original serious expression that the painted Jack had worn, this Jack had an ugly, morphed grin which stuck out like a sore thumb. His eyes appeared dark and hideous, and his whole stance had changed too. He was holding something white, which Ianto realised to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>skull, </span>
  </em>
  <span>right over the centre of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto backed away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a noise from above, the sound of boots clattering heavily over metal accompanying the loud klaxon warning coming from the entrance of the Hub. Before Ianto had remembered to breathe, he realised that Jack must finally have returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto raced back up the ladder, knowing that if Jack was to find him now, snooping around in his quarters, there would probably be some serious consequences.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbed out of the ladder and wondered what kind of a mood Jack would be in now. It was gone eleven- late enough that the Hub should’ve been empty. How would Jack react when he saw him still here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Ianto debated making a run for it. If he moved quickly and quietly, he could just about make it to the entrance before Jack would even realise he’d been here. But then he thought of the mood Jack had been in before he left, and the part of him that wanted to know that Jack was safe and unhurt twinged painfully inside him. It was why he’d suggested staying at the Hub until Jack returned - why, three hours ago, he’d still been working through paperwork as he idly wasted away his evening. Until he’d seen Jack with his own eyes and proven to himself that Jack was safe, he wouldn’t be able to leave the Hub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, trying to push down his sense of unease, and turned towards the room he’d been in previously. He could make out a tall, dark shadow, and as he approached, he saw Jack hovering by the coffee machine. He was staring down at the mug Ianto had left on the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you make me a coffee?” Jack asked, reaching out for the mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto took a moment to take in his appearance - safe, thankfully, and uninjured. His coat was undone and wet with rain, but despite the apparent weather, Jack looked very slightly flushed. He was now staring directly at Ianto, eyes softening as they wavered up and down his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto walked over and grabbed the mug of coffee before Jack could, something petulant in him not wanting his boss to swan in here, drink his coffee, and act like everything was okay when it so very clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. That’s mine,” Ianto told him. “I was just about to finish it and leave, now that you’re back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would do what Gwen had advised him to do. Drink his coffee. Wash the mug. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get out of the Hub.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww.” Jack sighed, swaying on his feet. Ianto frowned and smelt the air. In amongst the fresh aroma of coffee, there was certainly a small trace of alcohol, which answered Ianto’s questions of where Jack had gone. “Don’t leave now, I’ve missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’ve you been?” Ianto asked anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, here, there - everywhere,” Jack unhelpfully answered, waving his hands far too loosely. “Come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Ianto knew it, Jack was crowding him, and the stench of alcohol was undeniable with Jack’s face so close to his own. Ianto reached up his second hand to guard his coffee, which was threatening to spill as Jack knocked into him, evidently not fully balanced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto didn’t often see Jack drunk. In fact, thinking about it, there hadn’t once been a time where Jack had got further than vaguely tipsy. It was quite worrying to see him in this sort of a state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Jack reached a hand up, a warm, heavy palm, and cupped Ianto’s cheek. Ianto froze, expecting some kind of anger to rise in Jack, but instead the fingers started to move, softly grazing his skin. Ianto unconsciously leaned into the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack,” Ianto began, but his words were swallowed by Jack’s lips as he softly, ever so carefully began to kiss Ianto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The euphoria Ianto felt at Jack’s touch was almost enough to block out the stale taste of alcohol coming from Jack. Ianto tried to pull backwards, but his back was pressed to the countertop, and Jack’s hand was now holding his head in place. Jack’s other arm began to move up down Ianto’s body, more clumsy and drunk in movement, like Ianto had been expecting. The hand snaked towards his neck, trying - and failing - to undo a button, even as Ianto shifted backwards further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Jack pulled off Ianto and rested their heads together, forehead to forehead. His hands stopped moving, even as Jack pushed closer to Ianto, fully trapping him against the counter. Smiling, Ianto bathed in the comfort that Jack was offering, enjoying the rare moment of intimacy. But then Ianto took in a deep breath through his nose and snapped his eyes back open, his body freezing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I?” Jack asked, pulling his head back to stare directly at Ianto, his smirk beginning to grow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Ianto nodded, feeling his heart start to sink. “You smell… floral. Like perfume.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrugged. “Probably. Must’ve been from the girl I was with. Long, blonde hair - and </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful </span>
  </em>
  <span>lips that did some pretty sinful things to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto froze. His mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry, and his hands were beginning to shake. He lifted one arm up and gently pushed Jack away from him. Thankfully, he didn’t put up much of a fight, and Ianto was able to duck out of the way, moving to stand in the other corner of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You- she-?” he stuttered, placing his half-drunk cup of coffee down on the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d discussed this, back at the beginning of their tentative attempt at a more stable relationship, once Jack had returned from his three month absence. Ianto knew that monogamy wasn’t in Jack’s nature, coming from a vastly different time and planet. But when Ianto had told him he understood that, and that he wouldn’t stop Jack from doing what he wanted, Jack had insisted that he was going to make an effort - for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ianto. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack had told him that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that he wouldn’t want anybody else when he had him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the malicious grin on Jack’s face now answered every question Ianto might have as to what he’d been up to this evening. It felt like a punch in his gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s the painting. It </span>
  </em>
  <span>has </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be the painting - or something else, changing Jack. He </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do that!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You slept with someone else?” he shakily asked, trying to bite back hot, overwhelming emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jack said patronizingly, as if he were explaining something to a toddler. “You were angry at me, and I needed </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>to fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto felt his own rage rise, fuelled with a mixture of stinging pain. “Is that all I am to you? Someone to fuck? A warm body to sleep with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto, do I even need to remind you that you don’t own me?” Jack asked, once more advancing on Ianto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto shook his head, his movement feeling slightly dampened as his brain tried to cope with what was going on. “No. Of course we don’t own each other. That’s not what-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Ianto,” Jack said, malice in every word. “You don’t own me, because I own </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Ianto said, shaking his head again. His legs were shaking, and he placed his arms out on the surface to steady himself. “No, you don’t! Jack, this isn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you tell me that this isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Jack shouted, suddenly lunging forwards and smashing his hand into the coffee machine, just two centimeters away from Ianto’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s eyes snapped open from where they had been drooping shut. His brain felt sluggish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, the painting-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you figured that one out, did you?” Jack laughed, retracting his hand, which had a trickle of blood running down it. Ianto didn’t want to think about what the coffee machine looked like but found that it was suddenly too much effort to move his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- what‘ve you done?” he slurred, suddenly feeling panic flood through his veins. His legs shook even more before they gave out. He stumbled downwards, but Jack caught him, and Ianto didn’t even have the energy to protest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Retcon, in your coffee.” Jack laughed, grinning maniacally at Ianto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Ianto whispered, feeling himself go limp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack countered, moving Ianto out of the kitchen and towards the main area. Ianto felt himself land on something soft, some sort out cushion, but he couldn’t move his head to see what it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You see, Ianto. You know far too much. You’re too intelligent,” Jack explained, his words fuzzy with either the alcohol in his system or the effect of Retcon on Ianto’s mind. “You figured out the painting, so now you have to forget.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto tried to keep his eyes open, blinking for longer and longer as the effort to reopen them became harder and harder. He felt an arm move over him, caressing his forehead as his limp head fell back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams, Ianto.” He heard Jack say, a thumb rolling over his motionless lips as he slipped into darkness, his thoughts going quiet as his eyes gave up trying to stay open.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Part III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is, the final chapter!!! Thank you very much once again to my beta, Nik <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds">princessoftheworlds</a>!!! And to Lauren, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyborgtamaki/pseuds/Cyborgtamaki">Cyborgtamaki</a> who is working on some illustrations for this fic!!!<br/>Enjoy the last chapter!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>14th October, 10:36 AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s two streets ahead of you. Keep driving straight, but you’ll have to do the last bit by foot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh quickly tapped away at her keyboard, tracing the alien heat signature they had picked up this morning. It was coming off a woman who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time earlier in the day, and was now as a consequence playing host to a parasitic alien.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thanks, Tosh,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gwen replied over the comms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She isn’t going fast - you must’ve clipped her with a shot at some point earlier.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Brilliant. Let us know if anything changes.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do,” Tosh answered, leaning back on her chair to watch the tracker. As soon as her back made contact with her chair, a touch on her shoulder shocked Tosh so quickly that she let out a yelp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, did I make you jump?” Ianto asked, his voice sounding low and tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh turned around to look at him, grateful that she’d turned her comms onto mute. His clothes were rumpled, and his hair was slightly skewed, despite the work of the hand he was running through it. “Ianto! When did you wake up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just now,” he shrugged, looking around the Hub. “What’s happened? Where are the others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out on a Rift call. Some kind of alien parasite took over a woman’s body, but it appears harmless for now. The others are hunting it down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto nodded. “Anything I can do to help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for now,” Tosh said, turning back to glance at her screen. She heard Ianto pull up a chair to sit next to her. “You could tell me what happened last night? Jack seemed to be in a better mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he?” Ianto asked, looking confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh smirked. “Don’t give me that. Go on. Did you ‘kiss and make up’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Ianto spoke, his forehead creasing, and Tosh let her smirk drop. “I can’t remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack told us you were tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… must’ve been,” he said, still running his hand through his hair. “Sorry. This isn’t like me. I don’t usually sleep this late or this… unprofessionally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Tosh responded calmly. Then she spotted something on the map and pushed the button on her comms. “She’s taking a left turn, guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“On it. Just leaving the SUV,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Owen’s voice spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s your side?” Tosh asked, remembering the gash that Owen had got only yesterday. It made her pause and wonder why Jack had insisted on Owen coming with them on this mission rather than having Tosh take his place.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine for now. Painkillers are still working, but - over there! She’s running! Got to go, Tosh.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen disconnected his comms, and Tosh turned back to Ianto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like there’s something…” Ianto began, but broke off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto met her eyes. “Something I needed to do. Or remember. Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just on the tip of my tongue - but out of reach. Fuzzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh paused. “Ianto,” she said, her mind beginning to whirr. “What was the last thing you remember about last night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I remember the argument we had, in the medical bay. Jack stormed out. You helped Owen home, and Gwen left too. Then… I worked in the archives for a bit. Made some coffee. And…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at her, a lost look on his face. “And then I guess I must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh shook her head. “That’s not what Jack said. He told us that he found you awake, still working, and told you to sleep. That you complained about it, but he insisted on you sleeping and practically had to force you onto the sofa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s eyes widened. “I don’t remember Jack doing that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh placed a hand to her mouth, thoughts flying through her head. Ianto couldn’t remember last night - which could mean one of a few things, but - </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It couldn’t be. Jack wouldn’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember Jack there at all,” Ianto whispered, shaking his head softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto, you don’t think he..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Retcon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh stared straight into Ianto’s terrified eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t,” Ianto began. “He’d never- not </span>
  <em>
    <span>Retcon!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe… there was something he didn’t want you to remember?” she suggested, trying not to think about what Jack could have done, knowing that Ianto wouldn’t remember any of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The others,” Ianto said, regaining his voice. “We should warn them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh nodded quickly, turning her comms onto a private channel with Owen and Gwen. “Guys, there’s something you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not now, Tosh!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gwen shouted, her breath heavy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Jack, don’t, we need to- Jack!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And bursting through Tosh’s ear, the sound of a gun echoed, followed seconds later by a hideous, tortured scream.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>14th October, 10:51 AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One second, the woman in front of Owen was standing tall, her long hair whipping in the wind as she stared at her three pursuers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next second, Jack Harkness had put a bullet in her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen ran up to her, fear trembling down his spine as he saw the large pool of blood that was already spilling out of the girl. He heard heated voices behind him, Gwen and Jack shouting angrily at each other, but his focus was on the injured woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What happened? Are you guys okay?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tosh asked, sounding frenzied, in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re fine, Tosh, but the girl isn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is she-?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing a finger to her neck, Owen searched for a pulse. He shook his head, reaching to see the gunshot, and felt his heart plummet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was straight through her heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She’s dead! Jack killed her!” he shouted, and heard Tosh gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Owen, you need to get back here, as soon as you can. Jack isn’t right, still. We think he Retconned Ianto last night.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Owen exclaimed, shocked.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’ll explain when you get back. Jack’s not safe to be around. Just get back to the Hub.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen took a look around them and spotted Jack rounding angrily on Gwen. She looked torn between standing her ground against Jack and cowering away as he towered over her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen, need your help here!” Owen shouted, effectively deciding for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen turned to stare at him and took in his blood covered hands. Her eyes went wide, and she ran over to join him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s too late,” Owen said, reaching over to grab an arm. “She’s dead. We need to get her back to the Hub, in case she’s still contaminated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was Jack </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Gwen asked, tears pooling in the bottom of her eyes as she held onto the woman’s legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t trust Jack any more. Tosh said he retconned Ianto last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s head snapped up to look at him, and she nearly let go of the woman in shock. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh,” Owen replied, grunting as they stumbled towards the SUV. They soon reached it, piling the body as gracefully as they could into the back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack,” Owen called as Jack made his way towards them. He still looked vaguely angry, but a part of him looked horrifically satisfied about something. Owen really hoped it wasn’t the dead body in the back of the car. “We need to get back to the Hub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nodded and stepped forwards. “I’ll drive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I was thinking that Owen could-” Gwen started but then trailed off as she caught sight of Jack’s glower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll. Drive,” Jack repeated, and yanked the driver’s door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen gave Owen another look and jumped in the back of the car. Despite wanting to follow her, Owen thought it was best if at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them went in the passenger's seat while Jack was driving, so he reluctantly walked around the car and got in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Jack did indeed direct them straight back to the Hub without going on any detours or driving too dangerously. Owen was certain he saw at least three speed cameras flash, but that was fairly normal for Jack’s driving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they stepped into the tourist office entrance, Owen wasn’t surprised to see Tosh and Ianto standing there. Noting that the three of them were safe, specifically Owen and Gwen unhurt, they seemed to relax a bit more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, have we got a reception?” Jack asked, his face not giving away anything. “Nice to see you’ve decided to wake up today, Ianto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you Retcon Ianto?” Tosh asked bluntly, getting to the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack chuckled quietly and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His response sounded less like a defensive excuse and more of a taunt - as if he was genuinely asking Ianto why he would have Retconned him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Owen thought, feeling frustrated,</span>
  <em>
    <span> of course the tea boy wouldn’t know, because Jack fucking retconned the memories away! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened last night that was so bad, you had to make me forget?” Ianto growled, advancing on Jack as he got his gun out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, woah!” Gwen exclaimed as a second later Jack got his own gun out. They stood, guns pointed at each other, held in a deadlock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t shoot </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jack mocked, pulling the trigger back on his gun. Ianto did the same, glaring defiantly at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of us could,” Tosh suddenly joined in, pulling her own gun out and pointing it at Jack. From besides him, Gwen did the same, and Owen decided he might as well play a part in their plan. “And it’s not like you’d stay dead, or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Jack grinned, changing his aim between his four workers as he spoke. “One of you shoots, and I shoot back. Only </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll </span>
  </em>
  <span>wake up a few minutes later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all stood, locked in position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From behind Jack’s shoulder, Owen caught Tosh’s eye. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tranquilizer!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mouthed at her, seeing her eyes widen, then her face nod minutely in understanding. He started to inch his way around the room, being the closest to the door that led to the Hub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh lept forwards and pressed the button, opening the way for Owen, but Jack swivelled around to face him. For a horrifying second, Owen thought Jack was going to shoot him there and then - but Ianto was quicker. He hit Jack with a strong blow to the head, his gun connecting with Jack’s skull. Jack staggered over, and in the momentary confusion, Owen ran into the Hub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The klaxon blared as he got through to the main area, but it wasn’t loud enough to block out the second gunshot that Owen had heard that morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped for a second, almost considering going back to see if anybody had been hurt, but shook his head and pressed on. They needed to get Jack under control, and quickly. His side twinged, reminding him that he needed to take his second set of painkillers soon, but the bandage around it was keeping his stitches pressed tight for now. He wouldn’t usually have come in after the injury he had got yesterday, but Jack had been quite insistent on joining him on the mission. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Should’ve been a sign, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he realised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Owen grabbed the tranquilizer and filled up a syringe with it, he looked over his medical bay and spotted some gauze left out from yesterday. He seized that too, swallowing a small white pill dry to ease the pain in his side. Between that and the adrenaline, he’d be fine for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sprinted back up the stairs of his bay, making his way to the exit. The door slowly opened as he impatiently waited, slipping through the second there was enough room for him to get past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight that awaited him in the tourist office was a shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was face down on the floor, Gwen kneeling on his back as she tried to hold onto his cuffed hands. He was roaring and bucking, trying to shake Gwen off, but the ex-police officer was strong and knew just where to apply pressure to keep him down. Tosh was next to her, holding Jack’s legs down too. Ianto was standing in front of them, his gun pointed at Jack’s head. His jacket was off, and Owen’s eyes widened when he saw it pressed to his arm, blood seeping onto his white shirt underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Quick!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Tosh shouted, breaking Owen from his momentary pause. He ran over, reaching for the nape of his neck. He plunged the syringe down, depressing it until all the liquid had gone into Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Jack slumped against the floor of the tourist office, still. All that could be heard was heavy breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we do now?” Gwen asked, after what felt like minutes of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get Jack down to the cells, then figure out what the hell is going on with him,” Ianto said, and they nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I need to take a look at your arm, mate,” Owen added, ignoring the grimace that Ianto sent back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Let’s get to it. Give me a hand with Jack?” Tosh asked, and Gwen and Owen both went over to hold up an arm.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>14th October, 11:33 AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shirt, off,” Owen ordered, moving around Ianto to sterilize the medical equipment he needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very forward of you, Owen,” Ianto replied sarcastically, despite already starting to unbutton his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” Owen grumbled back. “Show me your arm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now having taken his shirt off, Ianto lifted his arm up, trying not to wince. The wound wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad, having barely clipped the top of his arm, but it stung like a bitch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. We need to sterilize this and make sure there’s nothing left in the wound that could infect it,” Owen told him, and Ianto nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just do what you need to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want anything for the pain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto considered. “Only if it won’t make me drowsy. We still have Jack to sort out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you something mild, for now,” Owen responded, walking over to his cupboards while Ianto sat down on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen soon got to work, first using gauze and rubbing alcohol to cleanse the gash. Ianto grit his teeth through the pain but couldn’t help letting out a pained noise when Owen started picking out bits of his shirt which had got caught in the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, Owen was wrapping the dressing tightly around the wound. Thankfully, it hadn’t been bad enough to need any stitches applied. Ianto shuddered as he remembered the cold, lifeless look in Jack’s eyes as he pulled the trigger, his aim thankfully skewed when Gwen jumped on him from behind. If she hadn’t done that - if Jack had had his shot on target - then Ianto might not have even been alive anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was torn from his thoughts when Gwen and Tosh suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Ianto?” Gwen asked, looking pointedly at his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. I was lucky it wasn’t any deeper,” he said, not meeting her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What should we do with the body?” Tosh said next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do your scans still detect the parasite anywhere on her? Or in the city?” Owen asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, they stopped the second Jack shot her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto thought, for one brief second, that he could remember a skull, pale white and held in two large hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, I’ll leave it until after we’ve sorted Jack. The autopsy won’t be too bad, at least, seeing as he shot her straight through the heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another flash, and there the skull was once more. Held protectively over what looked to be a chest. Ianto pinched his eyes shut, trying to chase the image.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto. Are you sure you’re not in pain?” Owen asked him, jolting Ianto’s eyes back open as he put an arm on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Just… has anybody seen a skull around here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A skull?” Gwen frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” he lied, trying to stop thinking about it. “I’ll go and make some coffee. You all must be dying for a cup by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three others shared an equal, guilty look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto, the coffee machine was broken when we came in this morning,” Tosh explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he said, dumbfounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll go and get some in a bit, from a shop,” Gwen decided, looking kindly at him. “We should go sort out the body for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto closed his eyes once more, blocking out Gwen’s discussions on what they should do next. His mind was whirring, noises of breaking machinery filling his mind as a fast moving fist was flying in and out of his memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Ianto opened his eyes and saw that Gwen and Tosh had gone. With a nod to Owen, he quickly made his way out of the medical bay, his destination set.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he lay his eyes on the broken coffee machine, the image of a fist slamming harshly into the machine, filled his mind. He couldn’t remember anything more, except the one hand breaking the kitchen appliance and returning with a trail of blood dripping down it. Somehow, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was Jack’s hand, and he concentrated even harder on the brief fragments of memory that he was getting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the skull was back in his brain, suffocating his memory until it was the only thing he could think about. So close, and yet so frustratingly unfamiliar, despite himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had seen the skull before, and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly he realised just what was odd about it. It wasn’t a real skull. It was painted.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>14th October, 11:46 AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen walked briskly down the stairs that led to the lower level cells, trying to banish the feeling of dread that was filling her gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together with Tosh, they’d moved the dead civilian into cold storage, ready for Owen to autopsy once their more pressing issues had been sorted out. Seeing her lifeless face, far too young to have even really </span>
  <em>
    <span>started </span>
  </em>
  <span>her life, made Gwen feel broken. The woman must have a family that they would have to visit and feed whatever cover story they could come up with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain and anger Gwen felt at the injustice of the woman’s death made Gwen </span>
  <em>
    <span>determined.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was in a cell, now only one floor beneath her, stewing away in his own anger. They needed to figure out what was going on with him, before more people were killed. Gwen tried not to think about the fight in the tourist office and how close they had been to losing one of their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One more flight of stairs descended, and Gwen was in the lower level cells. She took a deep breath, opened up the steel door, and walked in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was sitting, crossed legs, head bowed towards the floor, separated from Gwen by the enforced glass door of the holding cell. He looked up as she entered, giving her an odd smile that she couldn’t understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. His voice sounded calmer, more defeated than he had sounded earlier on. It was as if all traces of anger had escaped from him and left him empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came down here to check up on you, now that you’re awake,” she said, looking at him to gauge his reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very thoughtful of you, Gwen,” he responded, then let out a long sigh before continuing. “Though, I imagine you have ulterior motives for being down here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Jack, but there’s something wrong with you. We need to figure that out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nodded slowly. “I know. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wish </span>
  </em>
  <span>I could help you. I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>feeling like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen looked at him with renewed interest. She frowned, trying to work out if he sounded genuine or not. “How do you feel then, Jack? Help us understand. It might help us work out what’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack closed his eyes for a moment. “It feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s this </span>
  <em>
    <span>anger, </span>
  </em>
  <span>which starts small, but then it just gets bigger and bigger, until it’s all I can think about. And the next thing I know, I’ve- I’ve-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shot a woman through her heart? Tried to kill Ianto?” she offered, almost out of curiosity to see how he would respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he whispered, his eyes opening. “And I feel so </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilty - </span>
  </em>
  <span>but at the time it just felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s heart twinged at his obvious discomfort. “I’m so sorry this is happening, Jack. We’ll find a way to fix this, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked up at her. “Let me help you. You can do whatever tests you need to do or anything to get this sorted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved forwards so he was standing at the front of the glass, bringing his face close to hers, despite being separated by the glass. He was so close that Gwen could smell his unique scent, even through the gaps in the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack,” she spoke after a moment. “You can’t. We can’t trust you anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack recoiled back, a forlorn look spreading over his face. His shoulders dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, you know we can’t. I’m just speaking the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Jack replied quietly, hanging his head. As he wrung his wrist, he suddenly stopped and looked at his arm. “Would this help convince you you can trust me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen watched, absolutely shocked as Jack undid the strap on his vortex manipulator, pulling it off his arm as he threw it to the ground. He stepped back until his back was against the furthest wall of the cell, his hands up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on. Take it. You can trust me,” he implored, looking directly into Gwen’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hitched in a breath, not quite believing that her boss was willing to part with the one thing he never went without. In fact, there was not a single time (bar when it had been removed from him with physical </span>
  <em>
    <span>force</span>
  </em>
  <span>) that she’d seen him with a bare arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was still the nagging feeling at the back of her mind, that Jack was dangerous. “Jack, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Gwen,” he begged, his blue eyes turning crystal clear as the pain of what he was going through shone out. “I don’t know what else to do to make you trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen swallowed, and reached into her pocket for her gun. “I won’t hesitate to shoot, so stay against the wall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack finally started to look hopeful, his back straightening a bit as Gwen went for the door. She typed the passcode in and took a deep breath before she opened the door and slipped inside quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vortex manipulator was right at the front of the room, two steps away. With her gun cocked and still trained on Jack, she stepped forwards and snatched it, only moving her eyes from Jack for a split second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three… Two… One…” Jack murmured under his breath, and Gwen took a sudden step backwards, seeing a gleam in Jack’s eyes that couldn’t be anything good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cell door behind her closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen whipped around and reached for the door, but she couldn’t yank it back open. It was locked shut, trapping her inside the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could even realise that she’d turned her back on Jack, an arm was gripping her right wrist, digging fingers in as it twisted her hand painfully. She yelled out in pain and was forced to drop her gun before her wrist snapped broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen twisted round, pulling her arm from Jack’s hand as she stared at her boss. He was grinning, utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>maniacally, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his face threatening to split in two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After your quaint little team intervention yesterday, I had a feeling you guys might lock me in a cell for my safety,” Jack began, advancing on Gwen. She threw a hand up in a punch, but Jack blocked the blow. “So I reprogrammed the cell doors to lock after five seconds of being open, on the off-chance something like this would happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gwen hissed, darting out from where Jack was looming over her. She made a beeline for the gun, but Jack kicked it out of the way before she could reach it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty little Gwen Cooper,” Jack said in a melodic tone. “What </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>the others say, when they get in here and see you in my clutches?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s brain whirred, trying to come up with a way out, but she was too quickly distracted by Jack rushing towards her. He hit his shoulder into her stomach, throwing her against the side of the cell, and she cried out in pain as her head jerked backwards and made contact with the concrete. Not stopping for long, she thrust a knee upwards, which hit Jack’s groin. She was satisfied to hear him groan in pain and slipped out from his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she didn’t get very far. As she tried to put distance between her and Jack, Jack hooked a foot around her ankle, and she fell on the floor, hands luckily breaking her fall. She tried to scramble away, but Jack now had an arm around her ankle and was lunging forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was a familiar click, the barrel of her gun pressed into the back of her skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got you now, Gwen Cooper."</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>14th October, 12:03 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Tosh whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Owen’s help, Ianto had raced down to Jack’s quarters, found the painting that had come through the Rift over a week ago, and taken it upstairs to be examined. When he had set his eyes on the painting in the full light, Ianto had physically recoiled at the sight. It was as Tosh said - just </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack’s face was disfigured, brushstrokes harsh and heavy unlike the original, daintier strokes that had comprised the painting before. The colour scheme was darker, and the shadows were elongated, in deep purples and greens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only part of the painting drawn with great detail and care were the white flowers in Jack’s hand. They had blue veins travelling up their centre, but Ianto couldn’t make them out too well, as Jack’s fists were clenched tight over the flowers. A trail of petals fell to the bottom of the painting, escaping his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>the painting that fell through the Rift,.” Owen said, shock evident across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is. It’s just changed,” Ianto said. “I saw a skull on it last night, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Right over Jack’s heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then Jack shot a civilian, right through </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what do the flowers mean?” Tosh asked. “If the skull was some sort of premonition for earlier, then what’s going to happen with the flowers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re primroses,” Owen added, and Tosh and Ianto turned to stare at him. “What? Am I not allowed to enjoy a spot of botany in my spare time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, put your botany skills to work and find out what’s special about those flowers,” Ianto instructed, with a raised eyebrow. “Tosh, can we start analysing this painting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh nodded her assent and moved quickly towards her desk, gathering up a few items that Ianto vaguely recognised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, she was growling in frustration, hitting a metallic scanner hard in her hand. “It’s not working!” she growled, pointing the device back at the painting and pressing a button on the side for the fourth time. “I can’t pick up any history on it - it’s like it never existed before it came to the Hub!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you try another scanner? Different tests?” Ianto suggested, wondering what the hell Jack’s vortex manipulator scanned when it came through the Rift. Perhaps Jack had been under its spell from the very beginning...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can, but they’ll take longer to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh sighed. “This would’ve been a lot easier if we’d been allowed to scan it when it first came through the Rift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not our fault. Jack told us he’d already done that,” Ianto responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their conversation was abruptly interrupted when Owen entered, running towards Tosh’s desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Gwen?” he demanded, eyes wide with panic. Ianto straightened up, already moving towards the computer on his left to search the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No idea. Why?” Tosh asked, as a 3D image of the Hub appeared on the screen, showing flashing red dots that indicated heat signals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those flowers,” Owen began, looking between each of them. “They’re Gwen primroses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If the name of the flowers hadn’t been enough to set alarm bells ringing in Ianto’s head, seeing two pulsing red lights right by the cell Jack was locked in started a cacophony of panic in his mind. Before they fully had time to process what was happening, Ianto and Owen were off, pushing comms units into their ears as Owen barked at Tosh to stay with the painting and give back-up from observing the CCTV. Ianto already had his hand around his gun, though at the speed they were running through the Hub, he had almost reached the lower level cells before he had the weapon in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pounced into the room, ignoring the snarls of a Weevil in the first cell, and moved further in. Ianto frowned at the empty room, the fluorescent light reflecting off the empty floor. It was only when they moved right to the end and looked into the furthest cell that they saw Gwen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys! Nice of you to join me!” Jack exclaimed, an arm wrapped possessively around Gwen’s waist as his free hand held a gun tightly to her temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen!” Ianto exclaimed, meeting her tear-stricken gaze as her eyes opened wide. She looked entirely terrified, an expression mirrored inside Ianto’s chest as his lungs constricted in panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let her go, you bastard!” Owen snarled, pointing his gun at the cell, though Ianto knew that bullets couldn’t permeate the reinforced glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>in any position to be making demands,” Jack replied, digging the gun into Gwen’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s heart raced as he tried to come up with any solution that could get Gwen out of this situation unharmed. If they could get inside the cell, then he and Owen could possibly overpower Jack - but not when he had a gun against one of his closest friends' head. The twinge in his arm was testament to the fact that Jack wouldn’t hesitate to risk their lives anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack, this has gone too far,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Nobody has to get hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And nobody will, if you just do exactly what I say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t listen to him-” Gwen hurriedly got out, but Jack reached his hand over her mouth, shutting her up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, ah, ah - not so fast,” he said, accompanying his words with soft taps of the gun on Gwen’s head. He turned to look at Ianto and Owen. “You let me out of this cell, or I’ll paint the walls with Gwen’s blood and brains.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto heard a muffled whimper from behind Jack’s hand, and his throat stuck. What could they do? They had no idea what Jack wanted or what the painting was trying to do with him. Jack was bad-tempered and manipulative, but he’d killed a girl today. What would he do next? Try to take over Cardiff? England? The world?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was no way Ianto was willing to risk Gwen’s life for anything. He looked over at Owen, both sharing an uncomfortable, pained look. Ianto reached across for the lock to the cell, typing in the passcode he had memorised in his brain. The door hissed as the light turned green, slowly opening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack walked out, Gwen in front of him with the gun still held threateningly on her. “Good boy, Ianto,” Jack said patronizingly. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>there was still hope for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto felt physically nauseous, his mind in a panic. “What do you want?” he asked Jack, at least wanting to know what his plans were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do I want?” Jack repeated, a gleam in his eye as he paused in thought. “Many things. Power. Control. The entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>world </span>
  </em>
  <span>at my feet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sick. You’ve gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Owen said, his arm straightening as his gun stayed trained on Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put the guns down, boys,” Jack instructed, his eyes going dark. “Need I remind you what’ll happen if you don’t follow my command?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto looked at Gwen, could almost hear her begging to not listen to Jack, but with a gun to her head, Ianto wasn’t going to risk anything. He dropped his weapon and heard Owen do the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I think I’m going to lock you all up. Give you each an individual cell, keep you trapped there for the rest of your lives, perfectly safe from danger,” Jack said, eyes trailing off to the left as he thought through his many options. Ianto couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. “But I’ll let the secretary out, so he can see to my needs, and if he has time, he can keep the rest of you watered and fed too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>that,” Owen protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Jack gleefully cried, his grin widening to the point where it looked almost painful. “And when I’ve got you all safe and sound, I can go bigger. I can take to politics, gain control of the military - or just use what I have here at Torchwood! Win wars against other countries - find a way to get off this </span>
  <em>
    <span>godforsaken </span>
  </em>
  <span>planet and conquer the stars! There’s so much I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>do, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>power </span>
  </em>
  <span>I could have-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto, eyes wide, began to notice that Jack was starting to froth at the mouth. He was going utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen put a hand up to his ear quickly, pressing his comms. “Tosh. Third drawer on the left of my desk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say?” Jack roared, snapping the gun away from Gwen to point at Owen. His eyes were aflame, a disfigured fury inside them that looked like it could burn Owen on the spot. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s inside your desk?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen paused. “A bottle of Jack Daniels,” he admitted, seeing the frown on Jack’s face increase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And? What use will alcohol have now?” Jack demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much. Unless Tosh is clever - and Tosh is </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>clever.” Owen grinned, and Ianto prayed that whatever his plan was, Tosh had figured it out. “She’ll have picked up my lighter too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something clicked in Ianto’s brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’ve also heard that oil paint can be </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>flammable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack stood for one second, then took a long lunge forwards, arms outstretched as if he was going to strangle Owen. But before he could reach him, he froze, as if someone had suddenly grabbed hold of all his limbs and kept him hanging on the spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he erupted into flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto heard Gwen scream from beside Jack, and as his jaw dropped open, he saw her bolt away from Jack. She ran to Ianto’s side, hooking herself under an arm that he wrapped around her in comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s entire body was aflame, and he’d gone rigid. His spine was straight, his head tipped backwards as he let out a demonic scream that pained Ianto’s ears. The flames were odd- spiraling in many colours, deep greens and vibrant purples, mixed with more traditional reds, oranges and even some blue. As they licked up his body, Ianto was shocked to see there was no smoke, and that the flames were almost see-through. Unlike what he thought, Jack’s clothes didn’t seem to be charring or burning to ashes, and his skin still looked unblemished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his eyes had rolled back, showing only the whites as he continued to let out his hideous scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stood watching him for minutes, unable to look away or move an inch. It was captivating in the most morbid, torturous way, but none of the three could bring themselves to move. It was as if some force was keeping them there, making them watch as Jack burned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the flames stopped, sudden and jarring. Jack’s body fell limp, dropping to the floor. He lay unmoving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>16th October, 1:03 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a gasp, a strong intake of oxygen that set limbs moving and thoughts racing. Eyes snapped open and the darkness receded, fading back as life overtook it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack felt cotton bedsheets beneath him, and an uncomfortable mattress underneath those. The ceiling was grey, but the light shining from the centre was blinding. His eyes blinked as he sat up, still woozy with the reappearance of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in one of the spare rooms on the lower levels. If he had to guess, he’d say he was in an interrogation room, repurposed with an uncomfortable temporary bed, the desk and chairs left in the room. He took a second to think about how he got here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything came rolling back to him in surges of guilt, horror, and terrific agony. Memories of the past week crashed against his mind like waves against the shore. What he did to Tosh, to Owen, to Gwen, to Ianto-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped off the bed, running to the sink in the wall, and threw up. He heaved with each memory that returned, painfully shaking his body as his throat was scraped raw. He vomited until there was nothing left, and still he continued heaving, not sure if they were retches or sobs by this point. His legs gave up, and he sunk to the ground, resting his forehead against the cool edge of the sink. Reaching up, he turned the tap on and tried to wash down the mess he’d made, cupping the water with two hands as he splashed his face with it too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look very comfortable there, sir,” a very familiar voice called from the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack turned and stared at Ianto Jones - beautiful, perfect Ianto Jones - and turned back to the sink to throw up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not the reaction I usually get,” Ianto joked, but Jack could hear the strain in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Torchwood rules and regulations, section D, paragraph five,” he said, his voice scratching his throat. He coughed before speaking again, “Compromised Torchwood personnel must be isolated for a period of one to eight weeks, depending on circumstance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And here I was thinking you were back to normal,” Ianto said, raising an eyebrow. “You, following the rules for once?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack had to snort mildly at that response. “I could still be dangerous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tosh scanned the painting, and the connection between you and it has gone. Besides, I can tell from the vomit that you’re feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>other than anger,” Ianto explained, taking a seat at the desk, indicating for Jack to take the one opposite. “We don’t know what the painting was, but we believe the situation has been resolved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can help,” Jack offered, leaning back on his chair slightly. He’d known what the painting was the second he laid eyes on it, the last good memory he had before his mind had been changed. “I know what it was, but it wasn’t meant to work the way it did.” Ianto made a ‘continue’ gesture with his hands, so Jack did. “You know mood rings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto snorted in surprise, and his brows furrowed slightly. “What, those tacky rings that change colour randomly? Think we have a box of them in the Tourist Office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nodded, somehow not surprised to hear of the things stocked in the office upstairs. “It’s essentially those, but in a painting instead. Low level psychic link between the person it keys to, and then the painting changes with their mood. Put it in your hallway, your bedroom - even in servants’ quarters so they know what mood you're in and when.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto cocked his head. “But the painting didn’t show your mood. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>changed</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It also came through the Rift,” Jack pointed out. “It probably got a bit corrupted. I reckon it got stuck in a negative feedback loop. For whatever reason, when I first touched it, I must’ve been very slightly angry. Maybe I was annoyed to have to leave bed at three am or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it linked to you and showed your picture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. Except it latched onto the glimmer of anger, and instead of just showing a picture of me being a bit annoyed, it also projected anger onto me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s eyes were looking to the left, a telltale sign that he was thinking hard about something. “And that made you more angry, which made the painting show more anger and project even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>anger onto you, which-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-left me in a negative feedback loop, yeah,” Jack concluded. “Just a shame it latched onto my anger. Why couldn’t it be happiness? Or even lust - now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>would’ve been a fun week!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe for you, sir, but I can barely cope with you as you are,” Ianto said, sarcasm evident in his words. Jack met his eyes and found his own smile dropping away again. It was so difficult not to think about the terrible things he’d said and done to Ianto, and yet here he was, faithful as a dog, talking to him as if Jack was the one who needed to be given comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t know what the painting did to me, but you still came in here barely thirty seconds after I woke up?” Jack asked, his voice softening. “Alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto stiffened slightly, and looked almost embarrassed. “Well. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone, </span>
  </em>
  <span>per se.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flickered upwards, and Jack turned his head, looking at the camera that stuck into the wall. “Ah. The others watching the CCTV then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All but Owen. He’s by the door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In case I really was still evil,” Jack said, filling in the blanks. “It makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Ianto admitted, and Jack thought back to the sudden nausea he had felt the second he’d laid eyes on Ianto. He couldn’t imagine the guilt he’d have felt if he’d had to face all four of his workers at once, seeing their wary and untrusting looks directed at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Jack whispered, not sure what else to say. “I’m sorry you had to… you know, be the first. See all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack indicated the sink and shrugged, looking down at the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be daft. As if anybody could’ve kept me from running in as soon as you came back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack snapped his eyes upwards, once again struck by Ianto’s compassion. He suddenly had a thought, as he noticed the darker stubble that lay unusually unshaved on Ianto’s chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have I been out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto took a deep breath. “Two days, and a few hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breath escaped Jack’s lungs, and he felt his eyes go wide. “Two </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole </span>
  </em>
  <span>days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto gave him a soft, yet overwhelmingly emotional smile. “Yeah,” His voice was quiet, timid enough that the camera wouldn’t pick his words up. He looked up at Jack, a vulnerable expression showing. “Do you know how hard it was to have to watch you through CCTV, lying dead on that bed? Or to sit two metres away, not even able to touch you in case it wakes you and you’re still under control of that painting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack felt his heart twist painfully in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he lamely replied, not sure how to put the things he was feeling into words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t your fault,” Ianto insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>things to you. I shouted at you, I broke your coffee machine,” he continued, ignoring Ianto’s words. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I… I </span>
  <em>
    <span>cheated </span>
  </em>
  <span>on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Ianto implored, looking right at him with eyes that were nearly enough to calm Jack. “The painting did all that. You didn’t want to do any of that - it was barely even consensual. I should be asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>if you’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack ran a hand over his face, trying to figure out why Ianto wasn’t reacting worse to all of this. Why he even wanted to talk to him or look at his face. He thought back to the other night, memories weaker with the alcohol that had been running through his system. And then a memory of the girl at the bar flashed in his mind, and he had to swallow down more bile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s the worst part,” he finally spoke, voice shaking. “I think back on the memories, and it isn’t like watching someone else. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do all of that. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoyed </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For one moment, Jack saw a flash of fear cross Ianto’s face. It was gone, soon replaced with a sympathetic smile, but Jack knew that the trust Ianto had once had in him wasn’t fully there right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Ianto insisted, reaching out a tentative hand to place on top of Jack’s. The touch shot through Jack’s arm, barely even present but enough to ground him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so understanding about this?” Jack asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I...” Ianto began, then paused. He looked away. “I know you, Jack. And last week? That </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack felt something well up inside him - the pain and guilt he was feeling for his terrible actions mixing with the knowledge that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this man </span>
  </em>
  <span>in front of him could still look him in the eyes and ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>if he was okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was bursting with feeling, a dam about to explode, and before he knew it, he was opening his mouth and words were tumbling out. “I don’t think I’ll ever deserve you, Ianto,” he said, waving Ianto off as he opened his mouth to interrupt. “And I might have the worst timing in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>universe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but I can’t not say it. Because Ianto, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ianto hurriedly interrupted, drawing his hand back, and it was only then that Jack looked up and could see a slight wetness to Ianto’s eyes. “Not right now. Not… after all this. You’re confused - you’ve only felt anger for so long, and you’re tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to come up with excuses,” Jack said, trying to dim down the beating of his heart. “It’s okay. I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto gave him a small, quiet nod, and they both took a second to gather themselves together. Ianto reached up his hand to absentmindedly rub at the top of his other arm, and it was then that Jack remembered (with horror) that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the cause of the bandage there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your arm,” he began, reaching out a hand to touch it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto instantly flinched backwards, leaning as far back as he could on his chair. Too late, Jack drew his hand back, realising that things might take a bit more work than he’d originally assumed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Ianto muttered, shoulders sagging back into a less tense position. “I know you’re not- that you wouldn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you start apologising.” Jack laughed lightly, awkwardly even. “I can see we’re going to have to take it easy for a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably for the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hummed, trying not to blame himself once more. “How are the others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re doing… okay,” Ianto said, after a pause. “Owen’s moaning, Gwen’s fretting, and Tosh is trying to do anything to distract herself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like my team,” Jack joked. “How are they feeling, towards me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto grimaced. “I’m not sure. Gwen’s going to need a bit of time, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understandable,” Jack nodded, trying not to think about the feeling of her head against the gun he held. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Owen might never mention the name ‘Katie’ ever again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can work on that, before next year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto gave him a look. “It’s not going to be easy, regaining our trust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack blinked, wishing he could just fall asleep and wake up, the memories of the past week just a blur of a nightmare instead of the reality he now faced. “I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto gave him a smile, the barest flicker of his usual snark and sarcasm edging outwards. “You can start by buying me a new coffee machine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack let out a genuine laugh, the humour being the most real feeling he’d felt over the long week he’d had.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all so so much for reading!! I hope the conclusion was satisfactory for you all, and I would love to hear your opinions on everything!!! I'm really surprisingly proud of this fic, so I do hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Tumblr @thirteeninafez :D<br/>Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!!!! Thanks for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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